Lawgiver of a New Age
by kenmadragon
Summary: The First Lawgiver of a New Age. Where the Grimm are marshaled by Deathknights with ghostly legions. Where Huntsman Academies train future heroes, and secretly cultivate Viziers. Where Stewards seek to restore the Moon. Where gods lie sleeping, spirits hiding in shadows: Nature's Wrath wielded by ignorant mortals. Where man's small soul is no longer enough to keep out the darkness.
1. Chapter 1: I Will Be The Hero!

_This started as an omake I posted on Spacebattles for Graveless' RWBY/Exalted fic, "Miracles of Ancient Wonder". But I gave it some thought, and it actually isn't that bad of a premise for it's own fic, and could go in a wildly different direction from what Graveless did. So, here's the first chapter to a new RWBY/Exalted crossover - Lawgiver of a New Age!_

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

"These things tend to happen when you grow up with seven sisters."

Much of Jaune Arc's life and abilities could be attributed to that simple statement. Tells you a lot about a guy when you remember he's the only male of the eight Arc siblings. It's tough when you have to deal with seven sisters with widely differing personalities and skills, and all of them like to treat you as... well, their toy. Which Jaune was.

It really didn't help that Jaune's mother was all too okay with what his sisters did to Jaune (she has pictures! And they're _adorable~!_ ). Nor that Jaune's father, Roland, was all too willing to let his wife take the helm when it came to their children, especially as he was often away, huntsman duties occupying a lot of his time. Quite frankly, he had been very much excited when Jaune was born - he had finally gotten a boy to bond with! - but from the collective glare of his wife and the pouts of his daughters... Roland was helpless.

Which of course lead to Jaune being taught a great many things by his many sisters. Things like music and art, the beauty of good literature and the power of painting. They dressed him up in their old dresses, or whatever they had on that was cute, and taught him to sew and garden and cook and clean and sing and...

It would be at about this point in his thoughts that the other Arc male would hunch over with dramatic guilt, unshed tears gathering in gleaming eyes; Roland Arc was helpless against the desires of his wife and daughters.

Dad is sorry, Jaune! Dad is sorry for your future!

But it did lead to some rather useful skills. Like the fact that the 7-year-old (going on 8 now) boy had taken to music and dancing with his sisters like a fish took to water, or a match to explosives. Dancing, at least, was a useful skill for the future, Mr. Arc had to agree, and might get his son many ladies in the future.

Though, he couldn't have been any prouder when Jaune began to introduce himself to girls the way Roland had taught him - the way his own father had taught him, and so on and so forth through generations of Arc men. The sisters laughed when they heard about it. So did Jaune's mother... right after kicking Roland in the rear-end for teaching Jaune such ludicrous things. They never disputed it though. Just laugh and always agree that yes, ladies did love the name.

Still, Jaune knew that someday…

Someday he would be legendary.

And that was his birthday wish, that fateful morning. As the sun rose with the dawn of his 8th birthday, Jaune was woken by his sisters to a chorus of "Happy Birthday!"s and in that moment made a wish. To be a hero! His family had been telling stories of what his father did, and what his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, and his great-great-grandfather, and on for a whole lot of "great"s for young boy to remember. And about a bunch of uncles (with lots of "great"s too) and some cousins, and a few aunts, but honestly at that point Jaune didn't really pay too much attention because his sisters dragged him away for a pretend-tea-party. He had gotten to wear a bonnet. It was very pretty, and had a big blue ribbon on it.

Where were we? Oh yes! The birthday!

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

It was a splendid occasion. Especially because so many relatives and family friends made sure to stop by for a visit. There were games and sweets and laughter all around. Though Mr. Fenn from next door did apparently have too much of the "adult-juice" and needed to be dragged back home by his wife, it was a fun party all around!

Though all the happiness came to an end when competition finally reared it's head. The Arc Family Dance Competition, to be specific. An event held by the Arcs once a season, and just so happened to be scheduled to take advantage of Jaune's birthday party. Anyone who could claim to be a part of the Arc family was free to enter. But after the last few years had proved to be... dangerous for those competing: Great Uncle Tiberius had broken his hip at last summer's competition, and second-cousin Marigold had twisted both ankles and broke her forearm last winter's, to name a few. Viridian Renoe, one of Bianca's friends, had been so traumatized after one competition she still faints from terror at the mere sound of disco. So for the most part, this year's competition was between the Arc siblings.

None dared challenge the Arc sisters on the dance floor, simply because the only way to win was to risk life and limb. No one else could keep up. Which lead to one of the sisters inevitably winning (Bianca, the oldest, usually).

But Jaune wasn't scared. This time, _**he**_ was going to win! He'd been practicing for weeks! And he'd even made sure to save his piece of cake for after the competition. Last spring he'd had an upset tummy, and Mom had said it was because he ate before he danced and his tummy got mad at him. Stupid tummy, didn't it know that Arc Family Dancing is serious business?!

The boy was tense with anticipation as his sisters shared looks between themselves as they saw Jaune attempt to compete. The determination on his face was contagious, and the tension hung heavy in the air.

From just outside the dance floor, Roland Arc muttered a prayer to the god of the Arc family, Sol the Most High, for all of his children to still be alive and well when this was over.

Then the music started. Pulsing notes and the rap of the drums resounded through the air, but all on the dance floor were still as statues.

The beat dropped.

And the bodies hit the floor.

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

For the first time in forever, the Arc sisters truly felt fear. Jaune's relentless practice in the weeks leading up to his birthday had resulted in a level of boogie that quickly proved to be a genuine threat. Minutes into the Competition, the sisters came to a silent agreement: Jaune needed to be eliminated, before they could truly compete for the title of Dance Queen.

By subtle dance-talk, Bianca directed Olivia - the youngest of the Seven Deadly Sisters - to challenge Jaune. With a subtle mosey over the dance floor, Olivia began to engage her brother.

But young Jaune had caught their dance-talk and knew what it meant. So he took her challenge and met his sister's advance, matching her rhythm and pace. Olivia danced a rather common Valean style, honest and to the earth. Jaune faced it with enthusiasm, swinging and stepping lively to the beat as he seized control of the flow. In moments, he had unwittingly usurped the lead from his sister, and taken control of the dance. By the song's end, Olivia had failed to defeat young Jaune Arc.

As the beat changed, Indigo Arc took control of the floor back from her brother. Legs whirling and spinning, Indigo's breaking maneuvers took advantage of the steady on-off beat of the percussion and the mellow verses of the music to fully show off her athleticism. After Olivia's failure, Indigo knew she could use superior body-control to pull off moves that her brother could not.

Yet Jaune would not give in! Stepping in with a top-rock of his own, Jaune dropped into tandem with Indigo, meeting her at her own b-girling skill. Spinning on his head, his legs moved too close to hers, and Indigo pulled back out of sheer instinct. She couldn't bring herself to hurt Jaune, even by accident. And Jaune seemed to know it!

Eyes going wide with shock, Indigo changed tactics, pulling Jaune into her routine. She had made the mistake of trying to teach Jaune the principles of breaking, but he had never had the agility for the complex maneuvers. Jaune had always been the support to set up her breaks. And unspoken message sent through dance-talk from Bianca had given the okay - if she had to, Indigo would take Jaune down with her.

It wasn't fair, nor very honest, but Indigo Arc did it anyways.

Throwing in some un-expected moves to shake Jaune off his game, Indigo couldn't help but be surprised when her little brother improvised to compensate. He even managed to jump the "accidental" sweeping kick at his legs. Though his landing was shaky, and Jaune seemed surprised at having jumped himself, Indigo had been in no position to take advantage of it. As the tune came to an end, she admitted her defeat with a soft smile, while Jaune moon-walked away, a large grin on his bright face.

By this point, Azure Arc had already gotten tired, though she would do her best to challenge little Jaune the best she could. Never mind the fact she was the least proficient of her sisters in the art of dance, and was usually eliminated by the other sisters easily, but teamwork was one skill she knew very well. Nothing existed in an equilibrium, and the brainy sister was aware that the defeat of Olivia and Indigo meant Jaune had become a serious threat to the Seven Deadly Sisters. And so she challenged Jaune herself, with an orderly ballroom dance.

She hadn't expected Jaune to seize the male's leading position from the start and control the entire dance, and despite the easy rhythm and lack of strain in the dance, her little brother's laser focus at getting the dance done perfectly was more than enough for her.

Besides, his little face was scrunched up with determination, and oh so cute Azure could just _SQUEEEE!_ After this was over, she was going to hunt down someone who had footage, just for the image of his adorable little face looking so fierce! She could trade it to her sisters for favors!

From the ballroom came the tango, and Shani Arc took the center stage to drag her little brother into the Vacuoan rhythm, zesty guitar and the trilling of flutes leading the two into a wild whirlwind of motion all over the dance-floor. Physically intensive, the burning passion of one-half of the Arc twins was highlighted by the energy of the tango. Like the march of the sun through the sky, the tango was full of vibrant energy and passion - this late in the competition, where stamina quickly became an issue, spending that much energy to compete with someone as frenzied as Shani would cause them to burn up faster than magnesium in open air.

But that was just what Jaune did, layering surprise after surprise as the little boy not only sought to keep up with his bigger, taller, more energetic sister, but also took the Girl's side of the dance, twirls, spins, sashays and mock flirtations galore! Where had he learned that behavior?!

From the sidelines, Olivia shrank as she realized Jaune had taken her imitations of Shani and turned them against the older sister. She had just been joking, not teaching him those dirty dance moves! If Shani ever found out...

The cherry on top came when Shani had to dip Jaune at the end, and the little boy merely laughed and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek,

Then Jaune looked up at her, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of keeping up with her. His smile was dazzling as he cheerfully said, "Thank you, Shani! For being such a great dance partner and for teaching me to dance in the first place. But now, I'm going to beat all of you! With my boogie fever!" After that, how could she not cede victory?

Shani's twin, Sienna, had no such compunction. The waltz that followed the tango was strict and structured, Jaune took the lead this time. He hadn't been taught the girl's part, and Sienna immediately exploited that fact, leveraging for position. The older sisters had far more endurance than a mere 8-year old on his birthday, and Sienna knew it. Though the waltz was slow by nature, Jaune had lost enough energy in the tango for his fatigue to become noticeable.

But that fire in his eyes hadn't died.

No, if anything, it seemed as if his success in defeating the four of the Seven Deadly Sisters in the Arc Family Dance Competition had only fueled his determination.

So Sienna tried a different game.

"If you drop out now, Jaune, I'll clean your room for a month."

Jaune blinked. He opened his mouth, before frowning, deep in thought. Even still, his feet never missed a beat, even lifting his arm for Sienna to bend and twirl under (despite how awkward that was, given the height difference)..

"No."

"What if I got you Pumpkin Pete's cereal behind Mom's back?"

Jaune almost missed a step. Sienna just smirked.

Mom never got him Pumpkin Pete's cereal! It was too sugary, she said! It's not any good, she argued! Jaune loved that cereal. It was delicious, and his mother just didn't understand.

But was it worth throwing the competition?

Jaune hesitated to say.

Sienna merely smiled knowing she had won.

"No."

Wait.

"Come again?"

" _No_. I'm going to _win!_ " Jaune declared, eyes burning with adorable fierceness. He was like an eager little kitten, trying to be a tiger. And Sienna couldn't help but melt.

Unable to corrupt him from his path, Sienna admitted her defeat.

By this point, the Dance competition was about to slam it home for the finale with tried and true dance music. And Jaune had proved too great a threat for one sister alone. So with subtle dance-talk to coordinate while Sienna had kept Jaune occupied, the remaining two Arc sisters - Bianca and Violet - came to an agreement.

They would work together to challenge their little brother, and ensure he couldn't compete for at least another year. Bianca had been undefeated, and Violet was willing to go along with her sister to see just how determined their youngest sibling was.

So as the music shifted and the dancing began, Jaune stepped up to Bianca and Violet.

And the two attacked.

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

Violet and Bianca were the main reason none could challenge the Seven Sisters on the dance floor. By the time any contender got close to being capable of challenging them, they would be exhausted and out of tricks. And the eldest sisters knew that so long as it was dancing, battling it out was fair play.

Usually this devolved into the usual Violet-vs-Bianca match that would tear up the dance floor, unless Indigo or Shani or even Olivia had made this far too. But Jaune needed to be reminded of his place as the little brother. A win on the dance floor against all Seven Deadly Sisters would only give him the power to resist his sisters. That could NOT be allowed.

The sisters circled their youngest sibling, and moved in tandem. Low kicks were shimmied away from, and swinging elbows ducked. Jaune's small size was an advantage in this game, for Bianca and Violet couldn't knock him away without straying too far from dancing. Actual fighting was forbidden! Bianca couldn't help but feel shocked! Jaune's dancing was superior to her own! And it didn't even look like he had even noticed the near-blatant attacks Violet and Bianca were throwing his way.

As the first tune of this cycle transitioned to the next, Jaune was panting under breath, but he couldn't stop now! Bianca and Violet were still there, and he couldn't stop till he reached the dancing top! But he was getting really tired, and Bianca and Violet were bigger than him. They could easily out-last him if he allowed them to dominate the dance-floor.

So Jaune froze, and stepped into their sense of time, disrupting his sisters' rhythm as he focused all his 8-years of concentration and experience. He dug deep into the core of his being, pulling on the ancient wisdom and power resting in his hallowed bloodline. Gathering the power of happy thoughts and an ever burning passion, he found his father's ancient teachings, and the dread Arc technique Jaune knew he had to unleash to win.

"Get back! Shield your eyes!" his father yelled from the sidelines, having recognized the shaking hands of his 8-year old son, and what madness he would unleash.

"Jaune! No!" Violet cried out as Bianca spun to pull her sister away.

"It's too dangerous! We can't stop him now!"

Violet and Bianca couldn't get away in time. They hadn't thought Jaune would be crazy enough to try pulling off the technique passed down through generations of Arc men. It was a double-edged sword, more prone to destroy a dancer than prove useful on the dance floor! But it was too late to stop him!

For Jaune had unleashed the dreaded and terrible...

 _ **Boogie Rhythm!**_

A series of mixed up dances from every thing imaginable, blended together in a form that was so loose and incomprehensible it boggled the mind. Dance moves so terrible and awful no self-respecting dance-enthusiast would ever think them worthy of doing, not even ironically! And certainly not chained together as Jaune was doing now! It was a dancer's suicide! Cheesy, tacky, corny, altogether shameful!

It was so bad... but... when done with enough heart, where one cast aside pride and technique and form, to just let loose with a primal sense of joy and exultation in the form of moving to the rhythm, the terrifying power of the Boogie Rhythm could be realized.

And Jaune had that enthusiasm and joy in spades.

He embarrassed himself, tossed aside any care for thoughts of others, save that of feeling the music and let his body pull over all the cheesy moves Roland Arc used when teasing his family. Happy memories fueling Jaune's need to just let loose, baring his soul with his movements to feel the music reach ever higher.

From the sidelines, Olivia fainted at the sight of Jaune moonwalking with vigor while throwing out disco fever poses, Indigo and Shani collapsing into hysterics at the sight of his laughing, sweaty face as he shook his hips and sang - mostly off key and with the wrong lyrics - to the song being played. Bianca and Violet tried to get away but he kept pulling them into spins and random arm shakes as he pulled off the most ludicrous moves the sisters had only ever joked about.

Jaune had fun, and let the Boogie Rhythm carry him through to the end of the competition.

The oldest Arc sisters had never stood a chance.

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

It had taken the better part of an hour to restore order to the party after Jaune unleashed the dreaded power of the Boogie Rhythm. In that time, he had been too busy trying to regain his breath after sweating up an ocean from all that dancing. But the gleam in his eyes and the smile on his lips never faded.

"Congrats, Jaune. You won."

Jaune turned to see his sisters, ragged and weary as they were from the competition (and it's ending), giving him smiles of their own. A golden trophy was held in Bianca's hands.

She held it out to her brother, "It was not the most conventional victory. Nor entirely expected. I would have thought you'd need another few years before even dreaming of challenging us. But you did anyway, and succeeded. Well done."

Jaune blinked. "What does convestonal mean?"

Shani roared with laughter, Olivia and Azure merely content to giggle.

"You won, little bro! Now shut it and take your prize!" Indigo ruffled his head as Jaune squawked.

"Ah! Quit it! It's my birthday! I break easy!"

"Indigo! You're supposed to hug him!"

"Whuh?" Jaune managed before he was mobbed with a group hug from his seven big sisters.

"Agh! Can't! Breathe!" Jaune squeaked out from the tangle of limbs and crush of their forms.

Finally they let go and Jaune took the trophy from Bianca. "It's heavy."

"Yup. Enjoy it while it lasts, little Jaune! Because next season, it'll be mine again!" Shani laughed.

"I think you mean mine." Indigo piped up.

"Of course not, my technique is better than all of yours. I'll be the one to win." Sienna argued.

"Nuh uh!"

"No, it's mine!"

"Please! Of course next season is mine."

"Um, I don't really care." Jaune said happily. All of the Seven Deadly Sisters looked to their brother, confused.

Jaune just grinned a happy, though tired, smile. "Because I got to have sooo much fun today! And I got to dance with all of you! And show you just how much you taught me! So thank you, everyone! I can't have won without you all to teach me!"

"AWWWWW!" All the sisters immediately dog-piled Jaune with hugs and love from the adorable-ness and emotion.

"Love you... too... sis... but... _I! Can't! Breathe!_ "

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

It had been a long night, and Jaune was tired. After waving all the guests good-bye - even if it got chilly, he had to wait outside to say goodbye and wasn't allowed to go back inside until they were gone, because Dad said it was 'polite' - Jaune had finished taking a shower and was dressed in the pyjamas Violet had got him. It was a blue onesie with a rabbit on it, and Mom said it looked good on him. Why his sisters giggled and hurt their noses whenever he wore it around them, Jaune would never know. Especially because they kept putting ribbons in his hair, and then they got worse, and would leave nose-blood everywhere. It made young Jaune very worried, but they seemed alright after a few minutes, so maybe it was okay?

It didn't matter now though. Jaune had finally gotten ready for bed, before he remembered he hadn't had cake yet. All of a sudden, bed-time seemed far less important. A birthday party gone without having birthday cake?

Why, that was just sacwi… sacrila… bad! _Really_ bad!

No birthday party was complete without having birthday cake. Especially after winning the Arc Family Dancing Competition! Bianca said that having cake after the competition was good luck, and made you heroic! He had to get his cake!

Thankfully, it was right where he left it downstairs. Still untouched in the fridge, waiting for him. It called to him, and he took it before his Mom could catch him and tell him off for eating before bed.

Sneaking back up the stairs, Jaune slipped back into his little room of solitude from his sisters. Shutting the door, Jaune sat on his bed, and picked up the fork. Slowly, he speared the soft, spongy, deliciousness on the tines, and raised it.

After a few moments of solemn appreciation, Jaune placed it in his mouth, and chewed.

It tasted like victory.

" **GREETINGS JAUNE ARC!"**

"Bwwah!"

Jaune fell backwards in shock as time slowed to a halt, the ticking of the clock on the wall slowly freezing in place, the cake freezing in midair above the bedside desk, and the room exploded with light as a _**glorious, golden, glowing man with four arms**_ appeared before him. The man was garbed in glittering golden bronze armor, white and dazzling robes as lines and threading of all the colors of the sunrise and sunset shimmering in the immaculate cloth. The man's mighty arms each held an object that burned with intense fervor - a branch of green-gold plants that he remembered Olivia calling a 'laurel', a horn made of some ancient bone inlaid with glistening golden filigree, a spear made of gold that seemed sharp as the light of a dawning sun, a splendid shield of glistening gold that seemed almost like sunlight made metal with the icon of a blazing sun and lines of silver.

The man' face was serene and wise, powerful and heroic, eyes burning with awe inspiring glory and excellence, hair blazing with majesty as a halo of burning light emanated from his visage like a corona of infinite radiance. Upon his magnificent brow was the mark of a starburst or sun radiating light over the world. The clamor of music and echoing choirs of heavenly deities singing of shining magnificence rang in the far distance, deafening yet barely noticeable. In fact, save for the longer hair being a different shade, he looked almost just like the heroic vision of heroic ancestors painted in the annals of Arc Family history! The figure's perfected **GLORY** was almost scarring to behold, but Jaune couldn't help but be enraptured by the sheer magnificence of the figure appearing before him. He was told to never stare at bright objects like the lamps and the sun, but he couldn't help it with the figure before him.

He looked so cool!

" **Apologies for the late arrival; I -"**

"It's okay!" Jaune interrupted cheerfully, seemingly out of habit.

The **Figure** blinked at the young child that so easily interrupted it. How was the boy speaking? Time had stopped between breaths. And even so, to interrupt…

It took the **Figure** a few moments to regain its bearings and get back to what it was here for. Honestly, ever since the Dome had broken down millennia ago, and the Maker had absolutely refused to repair it, the **Figure** had been incomparably bored. The only thing that could hold **His** interest these decades was watching what the mortals were up to. And to one such as **He** their lives were rather… amusing. Perhaps he ought to take _**Her**_ advice more often and have a more direct hand in things. Which is what brought it here, to Jaune Arc on his eighth birthday. A personal touch. An especially unique, personal touch.

" **As I was saying… Jaune Arc! Blood of My Gift, Blessed Child! I have seen your deeds, and beheld your virtues! You whom are beloved and protected, sheltered and cherished! I have distinguished your determination and measure. I have witnessed your love, your joy and your courage! I have seen your drive to surpass all others, and your thirst to enter the annals of legend. To challenge Fate and shake Heaven if you must! To restore Creation to its true glory! And on this the anniversary of your Eighth Year since birth, I have witnessed your** _ **triumph~!**_

" **I am Ignis Divine, the Uncon - "**

"Are you the Birthday Fairy?!"

" **Huh?"**

The **Figure** looked down at the little boy standing on his bed, hopping up and down excitedly.

"You're the Birthday Fairy? Aren't you!"

Once more, **Ignis Divine** was speechless. An askance glance at the sunburst hanging from the window-sill proved that this boy was a follower of at least one of **His** formal religions (what little of it was left in this forsaken Age). Granted, **He** had relinquished some of **His** more fearsome Virtues in consideration of the boy's age and sanity, but… Was His magnificence so easily forgotten and mistaken in this Age?

" **No, Jaune, I am not the 'Bir-'..."**

The burning golden eyes looked into the innocent, earnest blue of the young boy, the cherubic features rivaling even the most beauteous of **His** Chosen from bygone Ages, golden hair so much like his own settled messily atop the boy's crown. **He** looked deep into those eyes and saw the joy and excitement that it couldn't bring itself to squash. This was altogether new to **Him** , as the few Chosen that ever did prove worthy of a personal audience were typically much older. But this was a child and… Accursed Perfection of Compassion. This was why **He** avoided direct contact with mortals for centuries. They were so… How could **He** say no to that adorable face?

" **Yes my child, I am the Birthday Fairy." Ignis Divine** sighed. Oh well, might as well roll with it. " **And on this, the anniversary of your birth, I have given you a Gift."**

"Really?" Was it possible for little Jaune's eyes to have gotten any wider and more excited? From the sparkle in their blue depths, **Ignis Divine** could truthfully say yes.

" **Indeed. A very special gift."**

"Woah… Awesome! Is it something I can use to be a Huntsman when I'm older? To be a hero like Dad and Grandpa and Great-Grandpa? And Great-Great-Grandpa?" eagerly asked the young boy.

Ignis Divine sagely smiled and nodded. " **A noble endeavour. Indeed, with the Gift I have given you, the whole world might one day know your legend."**

"Wow… That's cool..."

" **Now, go forth, my child! Know that my Eye is no longer turned from Creation, and that where you walk, my Light goes with you, for you are now and forevermore one with the King of Heaven! You are Chosen under the Unconquered Sun, burning with infinite radiance and perfected GLORY! Spread Righteousness and make this lost world a better place!"**

And with that, the figure began to dim, time beginning to start up as Jaune panicked and shouted.

"WAIT! Don't go yet!"

 **Ignis Divine** paused, for the young boy's cry had somehow instantly carried the weight of prayer in this Moment, and **He Heard**. This was unexpected.

"What is it, my child?"

"Um…" The boy looked away for the first time, seeming bashful and embarrassed. "I, uh, don't have a lot of friends. At all. My sisters say they won't like me, so it's just me and Teddy Bear most days. But you seem nice, and got me a present for my birthday, so… would you be my friend?"

A moment of silence passed as **Ignis Divine** regarded the boy before him, who began to fidget under His gaze.

" **Child… you wish ME… to be your... friend?"** The idea of it seemed almost alien to the being, whose impressive golden eyebrow arched. Friends with a mortal? How… amusing. This was how things went so terribly wrong in the past. But with a child?

"Well, why not? My Mom says 'Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet', so how about it? Would you be my friend?"

Little Jaune outstretched a hand for **Ignis Divine** to shake, fixing the King of Heaven with an earnest expression of determination on his face.

The Most High of the Incarnae regarded the hand and fierce enthusiasm in the boy's blue eyes before smiling. The golden-green laurel branch hung in mid-air in a corona of golden light as the solar deity let it go and stretched out a hand of **His** own to lightly hold the boy's own, tiny fingers curling around two of the Incarnae's larger ones. The boy didn't even flinch at the heat.

" **Alright."** How could **He** say no? When this child asked so earnestly, who was the Unconquered Sun to refuse?

"Right!" Jaune exclaimed happily, shaking the mighty hand of the Most High. "The name's Jaune Arc! Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it~!"

 **His** smile grew even greater, with a low chuckle that resounded at the heart like the crack of thunder and the break of dawn at the boy's declaration. How amusing. Truly, the boy was a most excellent pick for this matter of 'experiment', and hopefully a worthwhile investment of this effort on his and Lytek's part. " **And I am Ignis Divine. To creation, Sol Invictus, The Unconquered Sun. Your…** _ **Birthday Fairy..**_ **."**

"And now we're friends!" Jaune couldn't be happier. This was an awesome birthday. He'd won the Arc Family Dance Competition. He'd had a lot of fun. He'd had excellent cake. And he'd gotten a new friend who got him a cool gift he couldn't wait to see! Possibly the best birthday ever.

" **Indeed. Go now, my child, and spread righteousness as you know best and make this world a better place!"**

And in a flash, time resumed. The plate of cake clattered on the desk, the hands of the clock began to move and tick once more, and Ignis Divine was gone.

"Hey!" Jaune cried out indignantly as he looked around for where his new friend had disappeared. "You forgot to give me my birthday present!"

No one answered

"Birthday Fairy? Where did you go?"

Frowning, Jaune set about to looking for his present. Maybe the Birthday Fairy hid it. Like the Tooth-Wizard! Violet had told him to tell Mom and Dad when he lost a tooth, so when he put it under a pillow, the Tooth-Wizard would visit in the middle of the night, and take it and give him a present in return!

"Maybe it's under the pillow! No? Right, that's just Tooth-Wizard. Wait, maybe the Birthday Fairy hides things somewhere else. Under the bed? Wait, no, that's where monsters hide. Good thing Teddy Bear is here to protect me! Humph. Not under the bed. The closet? No… Drawers? Hmn… where is it?"

Jaune looked high and low, tearing apart his bedroom in search of the hidden gift. Not even the sanctity of Jaune's hamper of dirty laundry had been spared from his search. In the course of an hour, it looked as if a bomb had gone off in the room, and it was only due to the fact that everyone was too busy staying up and watching a big-kids movie downstairs that no one wondered about the noise.

Eventually, fatigue finally overcame the young Arc child and he curled up under the covers, pouting and sulking about the stupid Birthday Fairy who was awesome but far too good at hiding presents. Tomorrow morning, he'd get up really early and search the whole House for it! Maybe even look in his sister's' "forbidden" drawers, just in case! He didn't knew if the Birthday Fairy was devious enough to do that!

And all the while, he never noticed that the light of the room came not from the bulbs left on in the room, but cascaded off his little, glowing-white form, and that a golden mark of glorious radiance rested upon his brow.

\- I WILL BE THE HERO! -

 _A/N: The author does not own RWBY nor does he own Exalted. Those belong to RoosterTeeth and Onyx Path Publishing (formerly White Wolf) respectively._

 _So, like normal for this site, please Read & Review, Favorite & Follow, and tell me what you think! I thrive on the support for readers to fuel my writing and draw your support gives me the drive to write faster!_


	2. Chapter 2: The Boy Who Cried BF

Chapter 2: The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy

So raiding his sisters' "forbidden" drawers hadn't been the best of ideas. Not only did he get his tushy handed to him when Sienna caught him rifling through her under-things and the others noticed that their own dressers had been ransacked, but Jaune also learned that his status as "beloved little brother" couldn't protect him from everything.

Which was really quite unfair, because until his birthday, they didn't really get angry at him for very long. Mostly because Jaune would get very bummed out and sulk, sometimes cry, as he bemoaned his fate to be hated by his sister.

Honestly, he didn't know what he did wrong!

Was it because he was a boy? Was this one of those 'girl things' Dad told him he'd only learn when he was older? Mom was always really strict about that. She got scary whenever Dad wanted to give Jaune his advice. Which always made Jaune really confused, because Dad was really smart, so if he was teaching Jaune, shouldn't that be good? Mom always said learning was a good thing, but not from Dad apparently.

Still, Jaune did whatever he could to get back in his sisters' good graces. Most of them would be leaving again for school in a week, and Mom had grounded him for upsetting his older sisters. He couldn't just leave this be! If they left and were still mad at him, then they'd never stop being mad at him! Then they'd always hate him forever, and ever! And he'd never get any hugs from them!

Hugs were awesome.

And losing them was… unthinkable!

Really! He couldn't imagine it!

Weird though, he didn't remember liking hugs all that much before his birthday, but that didn't matter right now.

So Jaune continued to pout and sulk, and wait for the answer to come to him. Because usually saying sorry and meaning it worked, but it didn't now. And Dad couldn't help because Mom was yelling at Dad about 'teaching Jaune weird things'. Dad said he did nothing, but Mom wouldn't have it because Dad apparently looked for presents in dressers when he was Bianca's age, and shouted at Dad for leading Jaune to do the same. She wouldn't have another "purr-bird" in the family - Dad was enough. Dad looked hurt by that, but Jaune didn't understand what was wrong with being a cat-bird, and how Dad was apparently one of them.

"But why is that wrong? I was just looking for the Birthday Fairy's gifts! But he hid them, and I couldn't find it in my room, so I had to look everywhere! And Sienna said she got visited by the Birthday Fairy and needed bigger clothes, so I thought the Birthday Fairy put my present in Sienna's room by mistake!"

Dad instantly paled, and Mom choked on air. Shani was nearby and started laughing, and the other sisters who heard got really red, quickly crossing their arms, and shifting uneasily. Sienna, on the other hand, looked like she had been struck by lightning and started stammering out excuses.

"Jaune… The Birthday Fairy only visits girls as they, uh, grow up." Bianca tried to explain tactfully. Of the sisters, only she had been spared Jaune's search. Mostly because he hadn't gotten to her room yet when he got caught.

"But I saw him yesterday." he pouted.

"Jaune, you're too young to be visited by the… _Birthday Fairy_. And you're not a girl, so the Birthday Fairy won't come to you till you're… er, thirteen or so." Roland Arc said, before his wife's withering glare had him quickly adding, "At youngest." This was most certainly not the time for the Arc Family Father-Son Talk.

"But I saw him!"

"Jaune, you should know better than to make up stories when you get in trouble. What did I tell you about lying?" his mother admonished.

"I'm not!"

"Jaune!"

"I saw him! I did!" shouted young Jaune, stamping his foot impudently.

"Jaune Arc! You do _not_ shout at your mother! Go to your room, you're grounded!"

"But I'm not lying! The Birthday Fairy was here, and he hid my gift and I have to find it!"

"Room!"

-The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy-

On the upside, being confined to his room gave Jaune a very good view of the Arc Family Backyard. Like all other backyards, the Arc Family Backyard was a yard behind the chateau. It was a nice, wide expanse, cleared of trees and excess undergrowth that the forests, which the residence of the Arc family bordered, were overflowing with.

Jaune wasn't allowed to wander into those woods. There were always strange noises coming from far away, probably inside the heart of the forest, and there were always many stories to be heard of people who went into the woods behind Jaune's home and never came back. Many called them the Lost Woods for that reason, but the Arc's knew many ways and trails through those woods, and even as a boy, Jaune was never lost. He was just not allowed to wander more than a league from the chateau, and a quarter that if he were within the Lost Woods. While Grimm were fain to venture so close to the home of the Arc's, that didn't stop the mortal creatures that called the Lost Woods home from wandering upon the young boy as he played along a brook.

But the foreboding trees and haunting airs of the wind passing through the boughs of the ancient wood weren't the focus of Jaune's concentration in the days of his punishment. No, watching his father and sisters train outside while contemplating when they'd finally forgive him was the subject of his thoughts.

Perhaps if he made a cake? Dad did that once when Mom was mad at him. But Jaune wasn't allowed to touch anything in the kitchen, so that was out. And he couldn't go out to get his sister's flowers. Most of the really pretty ones meant going into the woods, and Jaune was grounded - he couldn't leave the house. And after the last attempt at "art" resulted in the sisters fighting over Jaune's 'masterpiece', Jaune wasn't allowed to use that to apologize too. He could maybe get one of them to forgive him by giving her the title of "favorite sister", but then the other six would hate him more. It had been almost a week, and if he didn't figure something out soon, they'd leave and hate him forever.

So Jaune resolved to pouting and being forever hated by his beloved sisters, hoping that they'd show him mercy and forgive him. In truth, his sisters loved their brother far too much to hate him as he believed they might. But Jaune didn't know this, and his sisters allowed him that misconception - he was far more willing to do things for them when he wanted their favor. Thus, Jaune sulked in his room while Dad, Bianca, and Violet trained outside.

It was a rare delight to see them train in the Arc Family Backyard. Things always got broken whenever any of his sisters truly tried to fight, but that was because his sisters were the best. Especially Bianca and Violet, who were old enough to be training to be Huntresses. Which meant they were really strong, of course. So for them to train with Dad in the backyard meant that today was devoted solely to weapon-skills.

As an 8-year old, Jaune wasn't sure what a lot of phrases big people used actually meant, but when it came to watching his Dad use a blade, he understood what "poetry in motion" meant.

-The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy-

Bianca and Violet circled their father slowly, searching for an opening. Violet kept slightly further back, as her weapons lended themselves better to skirmishing than straightforward dueling like Bianca was capable of. So as the eldest of the Seven Deadly Sisters held her short-hafted, long-blade spear (or a sword-on-a-stick than a spear, as Shani joked) at the ready, steps light and measured, the second of the sisters readied her daggertails from each bracer, keeping sure to be slightly off Bianca's angle of attack to support from behind with her far more flexible weapons.

Their strategy would likely fall quickly to their father's superior experience, but that was the object of the lesson. To learn from their father's superior Sword Arts.

Roland Arc himself stood in the center of the yard, the family heirloom, Crocea Mors in hand. The tall man had forgone the safety of carrying the shield, the mechanical shield-sheath propped against the wall by the patio door, and clad solely in his leather jerkin than his heavier plate. He was training with his daughters, not fighting Grimm, but Jaune could feel the pressure exuded by the man as his sisters circled. With only one hand on the handle of the old sword, held before him with naked blade, the man kept track of both his daughters - one with his eyes before him, the other in the reflection of the ancient metal.

Jaune couldn't believe he'd never noticed it before, but Bianca and Violet hadn't just been circling because they wanted to annoy their dad with waiting. He realized they were circling because their father could respond within three paces, and had no exploitable blind-spot. But now he was seeing the permutations stemming from sheer possibility through his father's footwork, refined till there was an answer to all questions asked within the territory of Roland's three paces.

Then their father shifted one foot.

Violet's daggertails leaped from the ground, striking at off-center angles, the blades quickly swatted away by Roland's quick sword as Bianca rushed in. The thrust of her spear was dodged, blade up to block the sweeping cut of the spear that followed. Bianca pressed the assault, flashing long-blade of her spear flickering in her hands like a sword, the haft's length allowing the Sister to exert tremendous control over her weapon, diverted strikes returning with unerring accuracy.

Her strikes fell like the crash of waterfall, scything arcs rushing at multiple angles to strike a thousand cuts. But Roland's sword was just as fast, glinting steel darting to turn and redirect the thrusts and cuts of the blade with almost minimal effort. It didn't seem like the tall man was even trying too hard to Jaune.

 _Executioner Without Shadow!_

Roland ducked out of nowhere, Bianca's daggertails flashing in the space where his head had been, the Second Sister in the air, legs spread above her like wings as the bladed whips danced below, failing to encircle the man's head.

Crocea Mors darted out as Roland had crouched, and the man shifted his weight to duck out of Bianca's immediate range. The sword thrust into the failed cage of Violet's weapons, and allowed itself to be caught in Roland's place. Then as the blades whined from getting caught on the sword, with a single heave Roland pulled his daughter out of the sky.

Yelping, Violet twisted in the air to soften her landing, getting her legs under her to roll out of the fall, but not without tugging hard enough with her twists to rip Crocea Mors out of her father's hands. Roland seemed mildly amused, but Bianca didn't hesitate to take the advantage.

With a thumbing of the hidden mechanism, the spear's haft elongated, nearly doubling in length as it thrust towards her weaponless father like the shot of a cannon. The man whirled, arms circling to trap the spear in his grip, before bringing his shoulder underneath. The spear jerked in Roland's hands, Bianca unwilling to relinquish her weapon and it's superior reach nor allow her father to close in. A twist of the wrist, Roland's hold was broken and the blade sliced through the air to take the man's head. Time seemed to slow. Roland's hips jerked forward, dropping to his knees in time to lean back as the spear blade clipped the edges of his beard.

Then with a clean jerk, Roland leaned the other way, rolling into a forward tumble as his daughter gave chase, heading towards the fallen sword. Violet wouldn't let him, daggertails whirling to create a defensive barrier of blades, the whipping-edges darting to circle Roland's outstretched hand and tear it to shreds. But Roland's hand jerked back just as the trap closed, then darted forward once more, while the man was still in mid-air, snatching the blade as he landed, feet slamming the daggertail blades to the ground. Weapons trapped, Violet snarled as she closed the distance, loosening the tension in the daggertails.

Then the Second Sister broke her advance, darting to the side. Roland's eyes widened in surprise, sword flashing up as he spun to parry the spear thrust aimed at the back of his neck.

Blade met blade as Crocea Mors met Bianca's spear, and Jaune marveled as Roland took to the air. The released daggertails streaked back towards Violet's bracers as Bianca kept their father busy. The ringing of steel sounded just as loudly as the grunts of effort from the two daughters as Roland pressured his daughters, sword slipping past Violet's attempts to trap the weapon for Bianca to exploit.

Jaune marveled at the display as the three warriors whirled, each a storm of steel and skill. They were like whirlwinds, dancing on the grasses of the yard in constant motion. And this was just practice, where they were holding back.

Bianca lunged forward, and Jaune somehow recognized the foot-work.

 _Hound Chasing Hares!_

Like the rapid chase of hunting dogs after a racing hare, the spear chased Roland where he went, unable to dodge the darting weapon which seemed to multiply into many hungry beasts.

Roland retorted with an offensive of his own, darting past his daughter with the feather-step, lazily sweeping a strike in passing, only just barely blocked by the spear's haft. His feet skimmed the tops of the short grass, dancing around his daughters as he foiled Violet's dagger-tails with his sword. He was like a feather caught by the breeze, but his sword was steady and fierce!

"Vi!" Bianca called as she didn't stop moving forward from her failed assault. Violet caught the idea, leaping into the air as Bianca steadied her spear and feet beneath her. Violet's light feet graced the flat of the First Sister's spear, crouching as the whipping daggertails coiled at the ready.

The grass and dirt scuffed as Bianca launched herself at their father, a shout on her lips as she whirled the spear at Roland. Sent shooting forward on Bianca's spear, Violet shot forward with a great leap, streaking towards the taller man in a twister of steel as the daggertails whirled around her spinning form.

 _Rotation of Chained Storm Dragons!_

Roland narrowed his eyes, and Jaune held his breath.

 _Formless Sword: Four Petal Lotus Defense!_

The twister of steel that was Violet's whirling daggertails impacted the flat of Crocea Mors, scraping edges twisting and screaming as they failed to break the defense of Roland's Formless Sword, the impenetrable petals of Roland's technique standing resolute against the storm of steel like a mountain standing eternal.

The moment Violet leaped away, assault foiled, Roland flashed into motion.

 _Seven Heavenly Steps_ , Jaune noted, without knowing why.

Faster than you could blink, Roland was in the air by his daughter, slamming the pommel of Crocea Mors into Violet's back. Violet let out a shout as the blow sent her reeling and dazed with the same efficacy as a tiger subduing a chital. There was a crash as the teen smashed into the ground, groaning as the whipping blades fell limp and still. She struggled, but lay still, knowing by the rules of the Sisters' spars that she had lost.

 _Spear Art: Forbidden Gate of Heaven!_

Bianca didn't give Roland a rest, pressing him back and away from Violet's vulnerable form, spear flashing with the might of her technique, treating the haft of her spear like a staff to block her father's press while lashing with the point and butt of the weapon to gain ground. Any assault was met with immediate counters and retribution, the whirling sword-staff that was Bianca's spear cutting off all approaches, negating all lines of influence and direction. The young woman's fierce stance pressured her father, preventing advance and retreat, trapping the warrior in the avalanche of steel.

It lasted until Crocea Mors clashed with the blade of Bianca's spear, flat against flat, and froze in place. With a growl, Bianca tried to force the blades to part, but the spear wouldn't move in her hands. Roland smirked, as Jaune stared in awe.

With only one hand on the sword, it seemed like his father had made the blades stick like glue where they touched, the two dancing around as they pressed forward and back, their blades never separating. Despite how much Bianca attempted to wrestle control of the clash, Roland only needed one hand to control their weapons, like puppets on a string.

Then with a single jerk, Roland stole Bianca's spear, leaping into his offhand as he whirled his daughter's blade against her.

The cold steel of the spear tip rested on the First Deadly Sister's neck before she could step away. Bianca gulped.

"Dad! Sis! Lunch time!"

In an instant, the weapons were cleared away, and Bianca had carried Violet inside, Roland announcing that they couldn't slack off if they expected to be the top of their Academies.

Jaune was frozen in awe for a minute after they had departed, the images of the spar still playing in his mind. That was amazing! He couldn't wait till his dad taught him how to do all that!

He could imagine it now, standing strong with a sword in hand, cutting a swath of ruination as he fought legions of monsters to save the day! Like his ancestors in the stories!

"Jaune, lunch!"

"Coming Sis!"

Just you wait, Birthday Fairy! One day, when he was older, Jaune would be a hero, like you said!

-The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy-

"Whew, Dad, you sure didn't pull much back with that last strike!" Violet complained, stretching both arms overhead.

"Violet, you know you're vulnerable in the air. Especially after a maneuver like that. Speaking of, what possessed you to even try something like that?"

"My idea," admitted Bianca.

"Well, it was a good idea. If I hadn't been quick enough to defend…"

"I thought you guys were amazing!" Jaune said excitedly, waving his fork in the air.

"Hey, Jaune, careful with that thing!"

"Sorry Olivia."

"Heh, we do our best, short-stuff." Violet smirked, chest puffed with pride before wincing.

"But we could always do better." Bianca admitted to Violet's scowl.

Roland nodded. "Your teamwork still needs work, and you both started getting frustrated when I managed to hold you too off. Depriving me of my sword worked well in the beginning, but you failed to keep me from retrieving it. Without Crocea Mors, your spear and daggertails would have been too dangerous to deal with unarmed, and forced a far quicker end."

"So, what you're saying is you got mad too when we took your sword, and almost got you, huh, old man?"

Roland shot Violet a dirty look. The Second Sister was unphased.

"Not how I would put it…"

"Well, you two were still really cool, Bianca! Violet! I wanna be like you guys when I grow up!" Jaune smiled excitedly.

Bianca had a soft smile on her lips as she glanced at Violet, Azure and Olivia, the only other sisters at home that afternoon. "Well, I suppose you'll have to stay out of our drawers then, won't you, Jaune?"

Jaune pouted, sulking again.

"I said I was sorry…"

"We know." echoed the girls at the table. Their father just grinned.

"So… Jaune. Whose weapon did you think was better?" Violet leaned over. "Mine or Binky's?"

"Don't call me Binky."

The second sister merely grinned at Bianca's murderous glare. Bianca hated the nickname, and Violet never let her forget it. "Bi then? Then we can be Bi and Vi!"

"No. A thousand times, no."

"Girls…" Roland cleared his throat, silencing them both. "Don't make me use your middle names."

"Sorry Dad." "We'll be good." The two shot each other short looks, then promptly returned to their meals.

"Now, I'm going to finish up some of the chores around the house, and if we have time before dinner, I'll teach you all something new, alright?"

"Even Olivia and I? And Jaune?" Azure asked.

"Sure. But only if you've finished your school assignments for the break."

Azure perked up at this immensely, bookworm she was. It was rare that the younger sisters were given the opportunity to listen in on the older siblings' "lessons". Mom and Dad said they were too hard for kids, so any chance to learn cool new stuff from ages past was always a delight. Especially from Dad, who liked to make things into stories.

Jaune was just happy to be a part of his sisters' training. It was like a warm-up for his own in the future. And the fact that having been grounded gave him plenty of time to have finished his assignments already was just icing on the cake.

-The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy-

"Now, Bianca, Violet, I know you're both likely learning much of this at the Academies - or will, anyways - but there are some lessons that are best learned by example. Take, for instance, this."

Roland merely stepped to an easel and began to draw with chalk. With sinuous grace belying his frame, the man sketched out an object of beauty. A flower with many petals.

"What do you see?"

"A flower!" Jaune said enthusiastically. Roland smiled.

"Not quite, Jaune. What kind of flower?"

"A lotus." Violet answered.

"Correct. A lotus. Now, can you imagine, how such a thing may be dangerous?"

Azure frowned. "Dad, it's a flower. Lotus' are pretty, sure, but they float on water, and have a lot of petals. They're not poisonous, they aren't used by Grimm or monsters or Wyld-creatures… what's so dangerous?"

"Because they're symbols."

Roland beamed beatifically at Bianca.

"Yes. The lotus is a powerful symbol. It's representations are many, and it's meanings grant it far more strength than its appearance might suggest. Huntsman-Instructors like to use the lotus as an analogy for various topics, but those are not the point of this lesson. Now, see this," He continued to draw on the easel, starting with a few concentric circles, before spreading lines from the center to span the image. "What do you see."

"A wheel. Like from a cart?"

"Good. It seems I'm not such a bad artist, huh?" Roland joked. "But now let me draw a bird in flight," The chalk quickly let the image of a raptor's silhouette as seen from the heavens, wings spread as to blot out the sky, before it was joined by a hexagonal shell from which the head and tail meekly poked out, "and a tortoise, hiding from danger. What's the connection?"

"You drew them?"

Roland raised a brow. "No… Think more military."

"They're formations in war."

All heads turned to Jaune, who was startled by the sudden attention. Hadn't it been obvious?

"Yes, Jaune. Military formations." The chalk moved quickly, adding details and layering the rough sketches of the lotus, the wheel, the bird, the tortoise, with lines and notations for troop placement and facing instruction.

"The lotus, in many senses, can bloom in all directions, but is also beautiful and delicate. But upon entering the lotus, one may find themselves assaulted by a multitude of blades, like the myriad petals of the lotus."

"And the wheel?"

Roland picked up a plate and spun it carefully on his finger. "The wheel spins, and spins. On the whole, this formation may not seem like much from the outside, and it truly is difficult to notice as it forms."

Then a coin was tossed onto the plate before the plate was spun again, captured by the motion and brought whirling about on the huntsman's finger with the plate. "But if you're captured as the wheel forms, you can be drawn into it's center, isolated from allies beyond the wheel, and assaulted upon from any direction."

"So the bird is for hunting an enemy, and the tortoise for defensive maneuvers?" Bianca queried.

"Makes sense," Violet opined. "The bird is a raptor, and can form suddenly, and strike in one direction, but still move quickly. The tortoise is good for holing up and staying put, defending against an opponent on all sides, if you've got the numbers to make it work."

"Yes. As huntresses, and huntsman," Roland nodded to Jaune, who smiled at being included. "most of your training will be in small unit tactics. And these are times of peace, ever since the Great War, these tactics have been found to be… well, they simply aren't used very much."

"Why not?"

"Because these tactics are for formations which work better with greater numbers. Say, a wing, rather than a talon. But also because they are most effective against opponents who aren't as bestial as the Grimm, capable of stratagems of their own, and skill more in line with those of regimented soldiers."

"So why learn them? If they're outdated, what's the point?"

"Because, Azure," their father smirked, "the lesson is that formations can come from many sources of inspiration. And that their ideas can be applied to huntsman and huntress fire-teams as well. While the lotus formation is hardly useful without an array of spearmen ready in all directions as a readied counter attack, and the tortoise useless without the array of shields needed to form it, a swordsman's blade can still readily mimic the myriad petals of the lotus, unfolding with grace in every direction. One's shield can still become like the shell of a tortoise, minimizing your profile behind a defensive barrier."

"But not all of us use a sword or spear, and we don't all use shields either." Violet mimed to her wrists, where her daggertails were usually strapped and ready for use.

"Which is why you must seek inspiration elsewhere. Many a martial artist will emulate aspects of nature, forces of power and various other lessons as learned from the world around them. One wouldn't think a praying mantis would be much of a threat, yet you've seen on the Net videos of that Mantis Stylist winning bouts in the Mistrali Invitational, remember?"

Jaune remembered. The young man had dressed in black and greens, and his stance was weird, hands clenched like half-fists with his index finger curling downwards. It seemed funny to Jaune back then, but he remembered seeing how fast the man had moved, and the way he'd disarmed his opponent, then proceeded to break the bones in his opponent's' arm with just a few strange pinches.

"Take inspiration from the things around you, and you'll find yourself learning lessons in the strangest of places, from the most unlikely of teachers."

-The Boy Who Cried Birthday Fairy-

 _ **A/N:** So, the next installment of Lawgiver of a New Age features Jaune sulking, an awkward conversation, really low-level sparring for the Arcs, and some foreshadowing. And Jaune still hasn't found the present. ;P Not much done on Jaune's end, but he's 8 and grounded. What did you expect? Next chapter, we'll see charms in actual use. Probably._

 _Anyways, with regards to guest review asking whether Jaune would age super-slowly and be stuck a kid for a few decades - yeah, no. Exaltation doesn't stop your biological clock from aging normally. It alters your biological clock to keep you in your prime longer. Like Yurgen Kaneko who was an old man, who after Exaltation started to look younger and more fit. Solar Essence likes perfection, so it's cultivation lends itself well to eliminating the drawbacks of age, then maintaining the body in it's "prime". Likewise, Jaune'll continue to age normally till he's a young adult and his aging slows down to keep him in that state._


	3. Chapter 3: Par for the Cours Élémentaire

Chapter 3: Par for the Cours Élémentaire

The wanderer sat to the side of the tea-house, his thick, brown traveling cloak hung along the back of his seat. Droplets of water cascaded off the bottom to run along the wooden planks of the tea-house floor, slipping between the cracks to wet the packed dirt below, snow that had gathered on the cloak's shoulders melting rapidly, yet not drying as quick.

The traveler had attempted to sit as close to the roaring hearth as possible, but the warmth of the fire was popular in tea-houses in the North, and thus the people of Solitas favored those seats above all others. This didn't bother the traveler in the slightest - people like him were a dime a dozen in the tribal lands of the northern continent, and he wasn't about to begrudge another of the fire's warmth.

Besides, he had a thick coat, lined with leather and his collars and cuffs sported coarse fur. Heavy boots dried next to his chair, leaving him in his wooly socks, gloves still clutching the cup of hot cocoa. No one paid him any mind - folk like him were common on the roads of Solitas, especially with the large backpack leaned against the table. Similarly with the short blades sheathed at his hips. Just another traveler heading towards Atlas to try and make it in the big city.

Funny.

The traveler was actually heading in the other direction.

"Hmn… needs sugar," hummed the traveler under his breath, sipping on the hot cocoa. Sugar was a valuable commodity in these parts. He didn't have the desire to spend the extra for that little difference in taste. The traveler did ignore the hypocrisy of judgement stemming from the fact that he'd already spent quite a good deal of money simply ordering the cup of hot cocoa when tea might have sufficed as well. Or perhaps coffee - a far more common export from the other continents, made readily available in virtually every tea-house.

But most men of the north prefered to warm their bellies and ruddy their noses with alcohol of various sorts - tradition, in a sense, given the difficulties of farming in a land with short summers and harsh winters, much of which was covered in glacial ice and snow-storms which picked up at a moment's notice in the wilderer areas.

The traveler didn't care much for whiskey at the moment though. He had been traveling by foot for days, crossing borders and leaving the official reaches of the "Kingdom" to reach the other tribal kingdoms that marked the landscape of Solitas.

Gone were the days of the nomads who wandered the cold north, as the advent of innovation and the technological revolution of Atlas had led to the settling down of the barbarian kingdoms into their towns and forts, establishing the network of kingdoms and city-states that made Solitas the land of the strong. The chieftains who ruled the tribes had transitioned to become the lords of their cities and towns, building walls from dark stone drawn out of the cold mountains, brokering deals with few tribes that persisted in their ways and establishing safe havens for the people of the North against the degradations of wild beasts and Grimm.

The traveler found the concept somewhat amusing, as the struggle for survival shifted gears from the tribal conflict against the forces of nature to the struggle against one's own fellow man. Nevertheless, trade had flourished, and over the course of the centuries, it seemed like Solitas had all but forgotten her "barbaric" ways.

On another day, the traveler would have snorted derisively at the thought. But he was trying not to sniffle, lest he exacerbate his cold, red nose. His mucous had frozen out there, and the heat of the fire was melting it swiftly. But still, he didn't want to seem like he had a cold.

Mother had said he should wear a scarf while playing outside, or he'd catch a cold. And then she would tie it around his neck for him, that hideous rag of mismatched colors that somehow got dirtier the more it was cleaned. As a boy he had constantly protested, but he wore it nonetheless, lest his mother beat him with the switch for his lip. He hadn't gotten a cold, whenever he wore it, but that was simply because he was a healthy lad with a strong constitution and tolerance for the cold.

He hated that scarf. It was at the bottom of his pack, to this day, and continued to taunt him.

The traveler wouldn't let his mother win that argument by getting sick when he hadn't worn it.

"Still no word from Tjoll-sharn?"

"None. Why? You keep asking if that merchant is back with word."

"You don't know? Roan's little girl ran off with that Sedar bloke."

The traveler glanced over at another table where a baker and a tailor had been gossiping. Tjoll-sharn, it was a small village off the beaten path. Sweet-potatoes, if he remembered right. The traveler tried not to sniffle again from now runny nose as he idly picked at the dirt under his long finger-nails.

"Yeah, remember that. I'm not deaf, Braun. I hear things like that. Happened years ago, though. You saying they're up there in Tjoll-sharn?"

"Yeah, word is they got a shack up there, grow potatoes and all that."

"Huh. Well, that explains why Roan's missing. He finally figure out they were up there?"

"And got his boys and some iron to bring her back home." The smith nodded.

"Ouch. That's gotta be messy. 'Splains why he hasn't been around for a week. Weren't those two families feuding up there too?"

"Yeah, it's a right mess. Those farmers have been at each other's throats for ages, and now Roan's gonna show up with a cart full of iron and start something."

"Ah, so that's why you… you're a right gossip, Braun."

The smith mocked a swing to slap the back of the tailor's head, easily ducked at the indignant cry of the tailor. "Oy, that's my steel they're using, Ocker. And Roan ought to have been back by now, either with little Petti or no. And the merchant is late coming through, too."

"You don't suppose they ran into trouble on the road, do you?"

"Maybe. But that Luggerio fella travels with a Huntsman, and Roan's not half-bad with a blade himself. Hell, no one's even heard from Tjoll-sharn in a month."

"Hmn. Grimm, then, I bet. Damn them."

"Damn them all."

The traveler tuned them out from then. His cocoa was going to get cold. A quick glance after a long sip showed he'd almost run out. Pity. It was nice and warm, and a sweet respite from the tasteless and miserably cold back-country roads of Solitas. And he really needed to save his money after splurging like this. Not much chance to earn a living, doing what he did, but the traveler didn't mind.

Draining his cup, he noted the boots were finally dry, and the cloak, while still covered in moisture, was serviceable. Shrugging back into his traveling attire, he laid some lien on the table to pay for the cocoa with a little extra for the waitress and picked up his rucksack, hoisting the large back over a shoulder as he headed out. No one paid him much mind.

Travelers like him were a dime a dozen on the roads of Solitas. Even if most of them didn't bother walking about in the cold of night.

And it looked like he might have business to take care of in Tjoll-sharn before he went on his way.

The coarsely furred ears that popped out from the tangled mane of his steel grey hair did nothing to alleviate the cold winds as the traveler went on his way under the light of the shatterd moon.

-Par for the Cours Élémentaire-

Nino was worried.

"Jaune? Where are you?"

As of late, his friend Jaune had been disappearing around lunch-time. The moment the bell was rung and everyone was released from morning classes, Jaune was out the door, and gone. For the first hour of lunch, he was nowhere to be found, only coming back to school in the later half of the break to play.

It was rather worrying, but none of the other boys in class knew where he was. They'd taken to questioning him about it, but he would keep deflecting awkwardly, running away whenever they tried to force it out of him.

And it wasn't like the teachers would be of any help. Adults were useless! All the boys in the class understood this.

Well, except Max, but Max was far too much of a teacher's pet to be trusted with much. Shiny red apple on the desk and everything. It was sickening. How he and Kim hung out together, Nino didn't know. It was probably because Kim liked playing with Max's dog after school.

Though, challenging the dog to a race every twenty minutes was weird - but that was Kim. It was a common sight around time to see Kim racing something. It was almost as common to see Kim losing these races. Still, there was no one faster on the track in their year than Kim.

Nevertheless, despite Kim and Max being thick of thieves, the two were absolutely useless - Jaune wasn't interested in sports like Kim, and found math to be boring unlike Max. The two didn't care a whit about what Jaune was doing.

But Nino was worried. Jaune was a decent singer, and girly-accessories aside, the young Lahiffe boy couldn't help but think that the boy's girlish looks had gotten him into trouble.

Again.

Honestly, it was weird how non-plussed a guy could be about being in pig-tails. Nino had short hair so he never had to worry about that, but Jaune's hair was, well, really well maintained. Other guys got their hairs really messy, but for as long as Nino had known Jaune, the blonde's hair was almost never without issue. The other girls in the class were obscenely jealous.

Nino suspected it was the work of Jaune's sisters.

To be fair though, it was woefully unfair that a nice guy like Jaune had seven sisters. It must be awful to be him, living in a house with seven older sisters like that.

Still, he could admit they were pretty.

But enough daydreaming about Jaune's pretty older sisters!

"Hey, Monsieur, you see Jaune come by this way?" Nino asked the passing grocer.

"Roland's boy? Sorry, kid. Haven't seen him today," the grocer shook his head sadly. "But I heard from the Father he's been around the church lately."

Nino brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah. Why, playing hide and seek?"

"Something like that," Nino smiled mischievously. "He's been really good at hiding these days, we just have to catch him!"

"Hah! You kids… well, don't tell him I told you then, huh?" the grocer winked at the young mocha-skinned boy. "Or I'll be in trouble as a co-conspirator."

"A cocoa-spitter?"

"A snitch."

"Oh."

The grocer laughed. "Well, run along Nino. Don't get in too much trouble, you here! And tell your mother I'll have fresh tomatoes tomorrow, she's been pestering me last few days about that."

"Will do, Monsieur!"

Nino ran off towards the church. The streets of Orleans weren't very well organized. Granted, he knew no other streets, given his parents had moved into town when he was but a baby. He raced through the alleys of his town, heading towards the church tower looming over the rooftops, where the bells would soon peal noon.

-Par for the Cours Élémentaire-

In. Out. In. Out.

The motions of the exercise were engraved in Jaune's mind. The breathing pattern was simple, yet efficient. Each stage was characterised by either breathing in, or breathing out. The stretches not only loosened the body, but strained the muscles, testing them so they'd flow smoothly. Changing the positions was done with grace and ease.

His body arched back, arms spreading from his sides to point back, before moving down as his face met his knees, hands at his ankles. His right leg went back as his spine arched again, face greeting the sun above, before the left foot joined the right and his body swooped down, before reaching up to gaze upon the sun again. Then in reverse to return to the start. Twelve stages, breathing in and out with the momentary hold as each position was held for a few seconds, before moving to the next. The exercise was repeated nine times. He couldn't get to the twelve just yet, and nine left him sweaty.

But he was energized.

Jaune didn't really know where the exercise came from. It was a combination of a bunch of different stretches his older sisters did sometimes. They called it "yoga", something learned from others in their schools and academies.

But they did it weird, Jaune figured.

This way was more efficient. It felt like a conversation, a greeting.

 _Salutations to the Sun_ , he decided to call the series.

Strangely, the exercise made him feel good afterwards. That probably explained why Shani was always so active and running about. It hadn't made sense at first, because the other girls hated feeling all icky, and Jaune could commiserate. But this felt like good icky. Like he'd just won at a game or something (which was a rare event for Jaune).

Jaune sighed as he finished, and rotated his arm, taking out the stuffing he'd used when the church bells rang. Father Gambe had given his permission to let Jaune be up in the bell-tower, but only after he'd rung the bells, and so long as he didn't do anything foolish.

"The church is a sacred space," the Father had said. "And not a playground."

Jaune didn't want to play around though. He had just wanted to be someplace high up, and though the stairs were long and tall, it was almost calming being able to gaze upon the sun as it shone over the rooftops of his town, chasing shimmering lights across the river along the town's edge, the cries of the people going about their business, and the birds which sometimes visited by the time he was done, after having been driven off by the din of the church bell.

And once he was done, he clasped his hands and muttered an apology to the Oumist God for utilizing their church, even though he wasn't a believer himself.

It was part of the deal he'd worked out with Father Gambe - he wasn't a follower of the Church, but "the House of God is open to all who share its values, even if they don't share its beliefs", and Father Gambe just asked him to give a prayer anyways, as thanks for letting him use the tower for this.

Still, as he was finishing up, watching out over the streets with a smile on his face, he certainly didn't expect Nino to barge through the trap-door and shout at him.

"Jaune! I finally found you!"

"Nino?" Jaune whirled, surprised to see his friend there.

"Father Gambe told me you've been up here every day during school lunch. To exercise! You hated exercise! What's going on?"

Jaune was a little shocked at the disbelief in Nino's voice. Was his friend angry he'd been avoiding them? Or just unable to believe that Jaune felt like doing this?

To be honest, Jaune wasn't sure where the desire to do this several times a day came from. Just that his body ached if he didn't do it in the morning as the sun rose, and that he benefitted greatly from it. That he continued to build it as a habit at noon and sunset was just… well, it felt normal to him.

"Hey, calm down, Nino. It's nothing really."

"Nothing? You've been disappearing every day at lunch. None of the teachers know where you are. You always show up in the middle of the period again, and then eat."

"Yeah, because I come up here to stretch and -"

"And what? You never said a thing, we didn't know where you were. Heavens above, your sister Olivia came by yesterday and you weren't there. Said you left your lunch at home!"

"Ah, yeah, that…" Jaune rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed as his friend laid into him.

"Dude, what's gotten into you? You're acting like you've started training to be a Huntsman. You know your older sis Olivia just started at the pell, and she's, like, eleven."

"Nothing wrong with an early start…"

"We're eight, bro!"

"So? What if Grimm break into town, huh? My sisters are strong, my parents are strong… I mean, your dad is a Huntsman too, Nino! Don't you want to start at the pell too? To be strong?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather play all day! Academies start at fourteen, and we'll be old then! We're kids! Boys! Leave the pell to older kids! Our time will come. Or we'll do other things."

"Well, I want to start now. Dad's already started teaching me how to ride, and says I can handle a colt really well."

Nino tried not to look at Jaune with envy. Jaune's family was reasonably well off, despite having to support a household of eleven. The Arc's had a few horses, and Jaune had started learning to ride at the tender age of seven. Most of the other boys wouldn't get a chance to learn to ride till they started at the pell, if they ever chose that path. Not everyone wanted that life. Most quit in the middle, or didn't bother at all. But riding a horse was a skill all boys wanted to learn - they were the only ways to get around quickly out here in the country-side.

Well, all boys except for Kim - the idiot still kept trying to race horses, claiming that he'd be faster than the swiftest rider one day.

But Jaune couldn't help but burn with envy at the thought of his sisters training. Becoming strong. Fierce warriors.

Heroes.

Jaune was having trouble waiting around for the adults to say he was ready.

He wanted to show them he was ready. More than ready.

The other boys played with balls and sticks to enact mock battles. For fun.

But Jaune wanted to know the art of swords.

Yet, he knew no one would teach him.

It was ironic really, given in centuries past, boys would start the pell from the age of seven. But after the wars, people felt relaxed. Things changed and people didn't need to fight all the time. And now, at the age of eight, Jaune was considered too young to start the pell. He didn't understand why, just that his "youth" was "precious", and the rigors of the pell could affect his health later on, if done improperly.

They were right, of course. But Jaune figured he would be able to do both.

He was selfish that way.

"Okay, Jaune. Have it your way. But don't be mad if the adults say no! Just promise you'll actually be around with us during lunch, do your exercise thing at school and stuff… it's weird, you running off everyday."

Jaune frowned. "It's not weird."

"It is."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too. Now promise, or I'll tell your sisters what you've been up to. And tell Chloe you were the one who left that gum on the bench that one day," Nino threatened.

Jaune gasped. "Kuh! You wouldn't." Nino just gave him an evil grin. That day had been a disaster, Chloe had been so furious… It was a witch-hunt, and it was only by the grace of fibbing that Jaune had gotten away. "You would…" Jaune slumped, defeated.

"Fine, I promise."

Nino held up one hand, pinky-outstretched. Jaune reached out with his own pinky, curling the two together before they shook their hands.

"Come on, mec. Let's just get back to l'École. Lunch will be over soon, and you haven't eaten," Nino nodded to the trap door.

Jaune hesitated, looking to the sky once more. The sun was bright. It was a good day.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

-Par for the Cours Élémentaire-

Unbeknownst to the two boys, not all was well on the streets of Orleans that day. In fact, a great deal of commotion was being stirred up over a bull that Farmer Bowen had brought into town. Said bull was currently running amok.

The reasons for why the bull - named Shine-Eye for that particular glint of intelligence in the mighty bull's eyes - was running amok were not important. Suffice to say Farmer Claire hadn't been very smart bringing that temperamental young steer into town to be branded after his own brand had rusted in the spring rains.

The point was that the smith and his apprentice as well as the Farmer and his daughter hadn't been enough to keep the bull calm as the brand was being, well, branded. Couple that with the steer kicking through a wooden wall and getting large splinters stuck into its flank, and the bull was really mad.

And thus running about and causing a whole commotion on account of… well, angry bull running amok.

Now, if one were a gambling sort, one would think that the odds of said bull running into two eight-year-olds on their way back to school after one extorted a promise out of the other by means of black-mail would be extremely low. So low that such an event would be frankly astronomically improbable.

If so, then one would be very wrong.

For that bull was inadvertently on a collision course with the young sons of two Huntsmen.

-Par for the Cours Élémentaire-

"Say, why the church anyways?"

"Tallest building close to school. Also, no one would have looked there."

"I did."

"You cheated. You asked Father Gambe, and he ratted me out," Jaune pouted.

Nino laughed.

"Still, mec, we've got Monsieur Douchard when we get back. Really not looking forward to that."

"Yeah, I hate maths too. But I think I'm getting the hang of it, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah… I think."

"What's your secret, bro?"

Jaune shrugged. Nino sighed sadly.

 _Miaou!_

The two boys looked up at the small tree above them. There was a cat on all fours, peering uneasily over the branch down at the two. Nino took off his cap and rubbed his eyes.

"Is that a…"

"Yeah."

"In a tree."

"Yeah."

"Stuck?"

"Seems like it."

"Think it needs help?"

"Looks like. Here, I'll help you up and get it down."

Jaune clasped his fingers and crouched as Nino stepped into Jaune's hands. With a huff of effort, Jaune boosted Nino high enough to grab onto the lower boughs of the tree. The dark haired boy swung his legs towards the trunk and managed to find some purchase on the bark. With a little wriggling, he was up on the tree branch, calling for the cat.

Luckily for Nino, his hands still smelled of lunch, and the feline was in his hands quick as panther.

"Got it?" Jaune called from below.

"Yeah, I got her. Pretty little thing, I'll shimmy down a bit, just hold on."

"Okay!"

Nino began moving back to the trunk of the tree to climb down but paused as he noticed some strange noises down the street. Perking his ears, he squinted into the distance, wondering what was up before those eyes widened in surprise.

"Jaune! Run!"

"What?"

"There's a bull charging this way, and he looks really mad!"

"Huh?"

Jaune looked where Nino was pointing and his eyes widened in shock too. There was indeed a massive bull, taller at the shoulder than Jaune was on his tippy-toes, and then some. It's horns weren't very sharp looking, but even blunt they would nasty weapons.

This was not a good day to be wearing a red shirt.

Oh, look, there it is, charging this way!

" _Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"_

Jaune screamed as the bull charged after him, locking onto the red shirt and giving chase to the little boy running from it in it's blind rage.

"Jaune, if you're scarier than the bull, it'll be afraid of you! Make a lot of noise and scare it!"

"That's bears, Nino!"

Then it stepped on a rock and hurt its foot.

 _ ***SNORT* *MOOOOOOOOOOO!***_

The bull decided that the boy in red in front of him was likely responsible for that. The fact that bulls don't actually hate the color red was ignored - it was made, and the road was narrow. Jaune was running away and the bull was incensed enough to give chase.

"I'm too young to be killed by a cow!"

-Par for the Cours Élémentaire-

 _ **A/N:** Again, I don't own RWBY nor do I own Exalted. Also, I don't own the other stuff I'm referencing, but I reference a lot of stuff, so I'm not bothered to list it all. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this latest installment of Lawgiver of a New Age, and I promise that NEXT chapter there will be actual charm use. But for now, there's just some stuff happening in the background, and the introduction of the brave young Nino._

 _Also, a challenge to all readers to spot all the non-RWBY/Exalted references that I_ intentionally _make. If you can spot the majority of the intentional references in a chapter, be sure to say so and what they are! Winners get kudos, bragging rights, and the ability to name a minor NPC in this fic and their general background and whatever. If you manage to catch some unintentional references... well, then you're a smart cookie, so bragging rights, I suppose._


	4. Chapter 4: Shine-Eye Down

Chapter 4: Shine-Eye Down

Bianca's spear whirled in her hands. Bullets bounced off the spear's haft and deflected by the blade at harmless angles, ensuring Bianca was relatively safe from the hailstorm of speeding projectiles piercing the air. The few that managed to touch her only skimmed the edge of her breastplate, shaving off slivers of aura.

Seeing his opponent barely affected by the assault, the other student let out a rough breath of annoyance. The brown-haired boy had been trying to gain some ground with covering fire mixed with actual attacks, but he couldn't seem to get too far. Unfortunately, his gun-sword didn't have a high enough rate of fire to prevent her from maintaining the distance he'd been trying to expand.

Then again, he hadn't expected anything less from Bianca de Gennes, niece to the renowned warrior, Oliver de Gennes. Her spear-technique was superb. Especially because he'd already made the mistake of not retreating the instant the spar began.

The spear flashed on the offensive, blade slicing through the air in the very space Bianca's opponent had dodged into. The edge of her lips twitched as her opponent fell upon the edge, shearing off a fraction of the aura.

"Oh, fudge biscuits…" her opponent swore, caught by the blade in mid-dodge. The brown-haired boy attempted to dart forward and escape for a swipe in retaliation, the blade's falchion-like edge screeching against the pole's metal as it swept down the length. However Bianca was still too quick. Her steps were light on the retreat as the blade flashed - trapping her opponent in the iron web of her spear patterns.

The only refuges from her flashing spear that the boy could find were exactly where Bianca dictated them to be. Still, he allowed himself to be harried, blade flashing to meet Bianca's spear with careful and precise deflections as he attempted to feint and make room to unleash an elemental aura. But Bianca couldn't allow him that luxury. Then with a brief flurry, the flat of the spear-blade clashed against the flat of the gunblade, her opponent's stance firm as Bianca poured on the pressure.

Her opponent barely saw the motion as Bianca's right hand twitched in a circle, spear-edge circling the gun-blade, tip dipping under the curve of the blade edge, catching tight, and wrenching the weapon out of her opponent's hand. The boy reacted immediately, leaping to roll after it. He knew he was almost useless without a weapon in hand, especially against that spear.

But Bianca had seemed almost prescient, seizing the opportunity with a side-step as the spear slashed downwards, cutting away at the boy's aura before sweeping flurries carved another score of slashes and stabs into his aura, the vulnerabilities in the boy's leather gear falling to her precision points just as the boy recovered his fallen weapon.

His aura suffered the direct assault, and the boy could feel the bruises form as a result of the spear's edge and point. The boy whirled, a shout on his lip as he was about to fire near-point-blank at the vulnerable point of BIanca's armor under the armpit. Bianca's spear lanced forward, aiming to strike the boy's head.

*BZZZZTT!*

"And that's the match!"

The spear paused a quarter meter from the boy's face, his finger almost depressing the trigger as they froze in place with the sound of the buzzer. As one, the two turned towards the display by the grey haired professor.

The display was quite clear - Bianca de Gennes hovered at roughly 64 % aura. The boy, Bobby Squall, had dropped to 14 % - just barely in the red.

"As is clear, the winner of this bout is Miss de Gennes," explained the professor who walked forward before coughing into his fist. He continued to speak once the fit ceased.

"Mr. Squall, while you did a commendable job putting up a fight, you should always be aware of your weapon's reach. As Miss de Gennes has demonstrated, firearms do not have as much benefit from within an enemy's' reach as they do from outside it. Had you immediately closed the distance to immediately use your blade or escaped Miss de Gennes' reach from the start, things might have played out differently. I suggest spending time practicing means of escaping your opponent's reach without them catching up. Nevertheless, good work on reacting to Miss de Gennes' disarm, but brush up on your unarmed - you were a little panicked there at the end."

Bobby Squall merely nodded his head, rubbing the side where the spear had nearly punctured the chest-plate, as Bianca thumbed the mechanism to shorten her spear's haft for easy carrying.

"Yes Professor Shion."

"And Miss de Gennes…"

Bianca perked up at her name. "Yes Professor?"

"Excellent spear technique as always. But you still have trouble with firearms, I see. Most of your aura loss was due to carelessness in your defense against that. While I am aware your spear-style does not practice the greatest fire-arms defense, I highly suggest investing your time in adding such defense to your techniques. It wouldn't do for a promising young huntresses as yourself to fall to sustained fire."

"Of course professor." Bianca nodded her head to the old, bearded Combat professor, who cleared his throat loudly to cover another cough.

"Good. Now clear the arena and get back to your teams. Our next bout will be between Mr. Lu and Mr. Obomvu."

The two bowed to the Combat professor before moving swiftly towards the stairs off the arena.

Bobby waved Bianca up before him, gentleman-like, but the young woman barely noticed the boy's gesture as she walked up the stairs. She was too busy wondering about what she planned to write for the assigned HIstory essay. Essays were not her forte, and History was a notoriously difficult subject at Beacon.

Luckily, the topic was about military stratagems employed during the early years of the Great War - a subject her father had touched briefly upon in his musings at home in Orleans.

Bianca smiled at the memory of her siblings learning about formations at home from their father. Those drawings never measured up against the more professional diagrams illustrated in textbooks and reference guides regarding military formations, but there was a traditional charm to her father's drawings.

Which also reminded Bianca of her dear brother. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of him. Jaune really was too cute for this world.

She wondered what he was getting up to about now. Contemplating that, she noted it would be around lunch-time for young Jaune, so he was likely eating out by school rose garden like Olivia said he did.

Ah, how she missed being home, now that she was back at Beacon.

She hoped he was having a nice lunch, at the very least.

-Shine-Eye Down-

Jaune raced through the narrow roads of Orleans. Shine-Eye, the rampaging aurochs, wasn't far behind.

"Why me?!" cried the boy, legs racing as the bull kept pace with the youngster easily.

The bull didn't seem to have an answer, it's strides matching three to four of Jaune's, snorting furiously. The mighty bovine stood over a meter and a half at the shoulder, tail whipping, muscle rippling. It was implacable, and Jaune didn't know how to escape it.

He'd attempted to dart into an alleyway, bursting past a pair of alley cats that quickly scattered and fled for higher ground. But the bull had just followed him, the shattered two-by-four impaled in it's side scratching against the edges of the alley. The friction of rubbing the bar with the wall shot pain through Shine-Eye's side. With a wild snort, the auroch's fury rose, charging after the boy it blamed for all it's troubles.

The pain didn't seem to be slowing it down. In fact, the bloody wound seemed to almost glow the same red as it's maddened eyes, hoofs angrily scuffing up clods of dirt, tearing up earth and stone in it's frenzied charge.

Jaune noticed his alley way beginning to run out and attempted to jump the wooden wall dividing it. Only, the wall was too tall, almost twice as high as he was on the tips of his toes. And that wall wouldn't stop the bull for even a moment - it was too thin and made of old timber, while the aurochs was so strong and fast! Running from it… it was impossible!

Only it wasn't.

But that would be crazy.

No, it's not.

But…

Don't think.

Do.

Time slowed for Jaune. His heart was racing. Adrenaline surged through his body, blood pumping like a thousand-horsepower engine screaming down a highway. His breath was quick, and slowed as his perceptions slowed. The sounds of the angry bull fell away, his shouts died in his throat, as all he could hear was his breath.

In and out.

In and out.

His path was clear.

Jaune leaped to the left, right foot exploding from the ground. A fault in the brick walls of the building's foundation leaving one a centimeter off from the rest. His foot found itself upon the miniscule edge of that brick. The muscles in his leg cried havoc, flexing as they tensed, tendons straining like the pull of a bowstring.

Then, loose! He was up in the air, shooting forward and towards the other alley wall. His right foot swung forward as his arms swung, ready to shift his weight. The sole of his foot impacted the wall and Jaune threw his head forward, rocking on his right foot as he shot forward and up once more.

His arms whirled as his waist twisted, pulling off a ballet-esque twirl in mid-air as the bull smashed through the wooden division. Horns emerged from the explosion of wood as the bull leaped through the opening. The fragments scattered in the air to every direction in the path of the mighty auroch.

But Jaune was above it now.

Jaune panicked as he found the ground far beneath him, above even the explosion of wood from the breaking wooden wall. He was too high up! He was almost as high as the top floors of some houses. And he seemed to be gaining altitude too…

Oh wait, there was gravity again.

"AAAAAAAAHH!" Jaune shouted as he fell...

Right on Shine-Eye the bull.

The bull shuddered from the sudden jolt, almost losing stride, hoofs scrabbling on the ground to stay up. After a momentary pause to keep it's balance, Shine-Eye shook its head to clear the remnants of the wooden wall as it continued to rush forward. But Shine-Eye could not fail to notice it had a weight on his back - a burden as it searched for the humanoid clothed in a red garment Shine-Eye blamed for its predicament.

"MOOOOOOO!"

Jaune's legs tensed, almost instinctively at the feel of the animal between his legs, heels digging into the bull's flanks to hold Jaune steady as the boy screamed.

The aurochs bucked, and Jaune flailed, but his short riding lessons had held some fruit - by some miracle, he was still on the bull. Snorting, Shine-Eyes's tail whipped as it continued to jump around, head whipping to try and see what was on it's back. But its burden wouldn't fly off, no matter how much it bucked!

Jaune just dug his fingers in the hairs of Shine-Eye's hide, legs tight and firm as he held on for dear life. If he was thrown off, he would likely crack his skull open and die! How could he be a hero like that?

"You really need to calm down! Or I'll die!"

The boy's grip was inescapable, his legs would not let go for a moment, weight shifting to stay on despite the shaking as the bull raced through the streets. Shine-Eye charged forward as the pain continued to dig into its flank, weight still on its shoulders, barreling past an unhitched wagon into an intersection as the people on the sides shouted and screamed at the sight of a boy atop a mad aurochs.

"Mad Cow!"

"Oh my god, is that a kid!?"

"Someone get Animal Control!"

"We don't have an Animal Control! Get a butcher!"

"Somebody stop the ride, I want to get off!" Jaune shouted as the bull bucked, leaping in a circle to shake him off.

His fingers were slipping, and Jaune knew he needed to get the bull to slow down or getting off would involve being in a hospital for years. So he grabbed the only things he could.

His little hands seized the bull by the horns.

Shine-Eye, understandably, did not like that.

Not one bit.

With renewed vigor, the bull attempted to jerk free, but the boy's grip was inescapable. It defied comprehension, but Jaune held on for his dear life, and the bull couldn't help but turn its head where the youngster directed it.

"Oh, no you don't!" Jaune shouted, angry and fed up with this whole mess. "You will calm down and let me off!"

*SNORT!* "MOOOOO!"

Shine-Eye tried bucking more, but the aurochs was running out of steam. For a good ten minutes, the aurochs attempted to break free, but the boy merely bounced on its shoulders, never leaving for more than an instant before heels dug into the flanks and restored a mount. Each time he was bounced, weight shifting almost instinctively to stabilize him on his unwilling mount. Every now and then, Jaune gave the bull a jerk to one side or another in retaliation for the pain each bounce did to his privates as his vulnerables bounced off the aurochs' spine.

As the time passed, snorts became pants, jumps and leaps became pawed hoofs at the ground. The fight dimmed in the bull's eyes, exhaustion taking hold.

As it tired, Jaune noted it was slowing down. Not enough to get off without hurting himself, but enough that he could distract it. And then he had an idea.

Whenever he had to calm down, one of his mothers or his older sisters would draw him into a hug, and sing him a soft song. His tantrums would die away, and he'd be calm.

Surely, the same principles that worked on him would apply to a mad bull, no? Besides, Maman said he had a lovely voice, so long as he wasn't using it to cause trouble.

So he began to hum a song. Something within him stirred, and he breathed. In and out. It felt good. Calm and soothing.

That was good. It was a good song. He'd use that tune.

Then he began to sing in a soft whisper.

In its fatigue, with the boy leaning so close to it's ears, Shine-Eye couldn't help but listen.

And with the boy's song, came peace. The sun shone on the boy and the bull, motes of dust dancing lazily in the air. All was right with the world.

The lyrics weren't really about any one topic, nor was it an actual song. Just words and thoughts strung together with an ad hoc tune. What was important was the tone, and the emotions conveyed. Of warm days in the sun. Endless fields and leisure. Family at home, full of love. Peace and calm quiet. The world at rest as it should be.

And Shine-Eye listened.

Jaune sang and Shine-Eye felt peace.

As Jaune's voice drifted away, song at its end, the few on-lookers that hadn't run at the sight of the mad bull could only stare in mute shock as the bull had laid down in the middle of the song, panting heavily. The boy on its back rubbed its hide softly and soothingly.

When the song died away, Jaune slipped from the bull's back, feet bouncing lightly as he found the ground with a sigh of relief. Smiling, Jaune continued to rub the bull with calm thoughts, hands making soothing patterns, and glanced at it again with new eyes.

Now that they were both calm, he could see why it had been angry.

Poor beast was injured. Even for a creature as mighty as this, pain was confusing and only served to make it angry. The doleful eyes of the bull bored into the boy, large brown into small blue. Jaune could see the strength in the young aurochs, it's might and pain. Why it had been driven into blind fury.

But it was peaceful now. Jaune was here, and he was humming softly, keeping Shine-Eye calm.

Minutes later, Farmer Bowen arrived with the smith, panting as they stared at Jaune in Shine-Eye with shock. The cattle owner's son had arrived as well, and the two farmers approached with caution, a rope leash in the son's hands as they inched closed.

"Boy… You'd best step away from that bull…" older rancher warned.

Shine-Eye's ears flicked at their approach, and snorted roughly. It's tail whipped as it turned from Jaune towards the farmer, about to rise.

"Wait, wait. Shhhhhhh, it's okay, it's okay, the pain will go away soon. It's okay," Jaune hurriedly sing-songed in a soft-tone to keep the aurochs calm. Shine-Eye snorted uneasily and turned back to Jaune, tail flicking lazily.

Taking their chances, the farmer and his son steeled their nerves and approached, slipping the leash around the bull's neck, the father coming to the bull's injured flank. Jaune gave him a concerned glance, but the older man merely sighed.

"It's deep, but it won't splinter if we're careful." The farmer gave Jaune a curious glance. "You keep your song up, boy. Shine-Eye seems to be calm when you do that." Jaune nodded.

As the boy sang softly, the farmer administered first aid to the bull. Applying careful pressure, the man pulled out the shard of wood and cast it aside. Shine-Eye reacted but Jaune quickly managed to calm him down. The farmer quickly applied some cloth wraps around the area, and tied it down with the help of his son.

When Shine-Eye was sufficiently docile, the two brought the bull to his feet, and the son led the bull away. They'd get the smith to visit them at the farm - clearly bringing a young aurochs into town had been a horrendously bad idea.

Rubbing his messy hands on a handkerchief, Farmer Bowen turned to Jaune. The ranch-owner looked him up and down, not seeing any injuries whatsoever. Just slumped shoulders as the boy panted, sweat glistening on his skin, golden hair tousled messily from the action. But no injuries, or even the hint of pain. Just fatigue. His brows raised in surprise, impressed.

"You ever wrangled bulls before, boy?"

"No, monsieur." Jaune answered honestly.

Bowen whistled. "Well, I don't know how you did it, but you calmed Shine-Eye down. Hard thing to do, calm a bull when it's seeing red." He clapped a hand on Jaune's little shoulder. "You did good, boy. You ever need a job, I won't turn you away."

Jaune smiled, a little overwhelmed and still reeling from the experience. "Thank you. I think."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Jaune, monsieur. Jaune Arc."

"Roland's boy?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Well, you remember what I said, then. And don't go wrangling bulls till you get some actual lessons on 'em, you hear?"

"Yes!"

Farmer Bowen smiled back and headed off after his bull.

When he was away, and the other onlookers had turned away to begin gossiping about all this, Jaune let out a long breath.

"Haaah!... I can't believe that all worked…"

"Jaune!"

Jaune turned and winced as he saw the short-haired boy in a cap running towards him, eyes wide and red from what had obviously been crying.

"Hey Nino..."

The cap-wearing boy barreled into Jaune, almost knocking the blond boy down as he crushed his friend in a hug. After a sigh of relief to find his friend wasn't actually a ghost who had been gored by a mad bull, he shouted in the hug, "I thought you were hurt! That you'd…"

It took Nino a moment to remember that hugging a boy who was maybe injured wasn't a good idea. Stepping back, the boy looked his friend over. "You are okay, right? You're not hurt, or bruised or -" 

"I'm fine, Nino!" Jaune laughed tiredly. "Just… tired, that's all. Exhausted. I don't think I've run that hard in my life."

"Thank God, Jaune. Oh, Lord in Heaven, you're okay...:"

Nino rubbed his eyes to hide the tears as he smiled.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Still can't believe it, but I'm okay."

"Yeah."

"Hungry though."

Nino barked with laughter, smiling despite his red eyes. "Yeah, we're missing lunch, aren't we."

"And today we have dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets…"

"God, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. Can't miss those."

"Of course, Nino! Let's get back to school!"

"Yeah. Then I can ask you all sorts of questions about how you got chased by a bull, oh my god!"

"Nino, calm down! I'm okay!"

"But a bull! And you're not dead!"

"I got lucky?"

"Really lucky! A whole year's worth!"

The two laughed as they walked off to school, avoiding the long roads in fear that an adult would wonder why they were so close to where a bull had been rampaging. The cat in the tree and Jaune's disappearances at lunch had been all but forgotten.

-Shine-Eye Down-

Word had traveled fast. By the time Jaune had gotten back home from school, almost all of Orleans had learned of the blond boy that rode a mad bull and sung it down from the depths of rage.

Azure, Indigo, and Oliivia hadn't left his side. His mother had shouted his ears off before crushing him with tearful hugs. He'd just rubbed her back as she let it all out, and was glad his other mother and sisters hadn't heard yet. He was sure that they would call the instant they heard, just to check if he was okay.

But his three youngest sisters were still here, and while Mom was content to continue checking him for injuries or bruises or sprains or whether he'd developed his father's "stupid heroic bravery impulse" or not, they continued to wait at the sides and mother him when Mom was distracted.

It was awfully smothering, but Jaune took it all in stride. They loved him, and their hearts were in the right place. But Jaune was okay, and promised Indigo as she asked him quietly and nervously that he most certainly wouldn't be rushing off the wrangle bulls on his own any time soon.

He didn't bother telling them that Farmer Bowen had given him permission to find work at his farm. They'd just worry.

But his father had only been silent throughout it all. He hadn't said a word, just stood in the background, arms folded, staring. It was a rather unnerving stare.

Jaune had only glanced at his father's eyes, and found something clouded and dark storming within those orbs. Emotions broiling within those unfathomable depths, unknowable thoughts passing through his father's mind.

But there was something Jaune did recognize…

Roland Arc was terrified.

Horrified and afraid.

And the intensity of his father's eyes was too much for the boy, who averted his gaze. His dad was upset and had every right to be. How could Jaune not be ashamed for worrying him? For worrying his mother and sisters. For the shock he must have caused them, the fear they must have felt hearing he'd been near an angry bull. Their worry…

But it wasn't his fault.

Jaune knew that it wasn't his fault the bull had gone wild. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It charged. He ran.

Jaune hadn't done anything wrong.

And if he had to do it again, sure he'd do things differently.

But he couldn't apologize for doing more than worrying them. Even if he hadn't meant to.

And as the night passed, dinner was had, and Roland Arc continued to be silent. Jaune's mother, Aude, continued to alternate between doting upon Jaune and sending her husband concerned looks.

But Roland just washed the dishes as his daughters finished their homeworks at the table with Jaune, not leaving him out of their sight till the sun had descended beyond the horizon and the skies grew dark. He said nothing till they were all cleaned up and ready for bed.

-Shine-Eye Down-

"Jaune."

That was all he said as he stood in Jaune's room, looking down at his little boy in a onesie. Jaune, in turn, looked up at his father.

Then Roland lowered himself to one knee, and drew Jaune into a firm embrace.

"Oh, my dear boy… I-I don't know what I would have done if you…" he choked.

"Dad, I -" 

"No. No, it's my job to look after you. And you must have been so scared."

"I was, Dad. But I'm fine. I'm okay."

"Yes." The huntsman's arms tightened around his son. "Yes, you are. This time, you are. My brave, little Jaune."

"Dad?"

"I thought I could just - that I could...somehow, someway find a means to keep you from… from that truth."

"Dad, what's wrong?" Jaune was worried, unable to see his dad's face. His father's eyes had been strange, but now Jaune just saw his father's wide back, and the powerful shoulder under his chin. Jaune's arms weren't big enough to fully circle his father's wide chest, but that was okay. All he could feel was his dad rubbing soothing circles into Jaune's back.

"Oh, Jaune. You're not like your sisters. And I had hoped you would never… It's almost a curse, isn't it? Trouble is in our blood. Your blood."

"Papa…"

Roland drew away from the hug, looking his son deep in the eyes. Jaune searched his father's face for some hint to understand what was going on, but all he could see was unreadable. Like his father was terrified of something, yet helpless to do anything. It was a strange expression, especially on one as strong as his father.

He had thought there was nothing that could scare his father - that his sword was invincible.

Roland of Braye, a hero.

His father was unbeatable: his sword - indestructible.

A hurricane on a leash.

He who could fight ten huntsmen to a standstill.

And here was his father. Terrified.

Roland Arc stood and took a step back. After a few long breaths to center himself, he motioned for Jaune to get in bed. The father's face was stern and hard again. His eyes were fierce and - despite the clouds lurking within - bright as they usually were.

Jaune obliged, still concerned. Roland just flicked the lights off and wished him good night before heading to the door.

He'd turned the handle and was about to close it behind himself before the father said something that kept Jaune up for hours.

"Wednesday is auspicious for the beginning of journeys. After school on Wednesday, you shall immediately finish your homework. Once that is done... you shall start at the pell. Good night Jaune."

The door closed, and Jaune's eyes were wide.

There was no way he could sleep after hearing that.

-Shine-Eye Down-

A/N: So, if you've been paying attention, you'll notice that I don't really follow the Exalted rules as they're written. This isn't really a mistake - it's the fact I don't own all the Exalted splat-books, and am just saying "screw all that noise, I'm homebrewing stuff, so whatever!" This simplifies stuff for me by having the 'mechanics' I'm adhering to be loose enough for me to do whatever I need, and still feel like an epic game of RWBY/Exalted.


	5. Chapter 5: This Is Not A Pell

Chapter 5: This Is Not A Pell

"How… how could it have come to this…"

Nino groaned as he tried to stand. He had fallen onto one knee, an eye screwed shut from the pain as blood dripped from his stomach and limbs. He had to hold it tight lest the vital essence of his life leak from the deep gash in his abdomen. HIs armor was in tatters, helmet cast to some far corner where it had flown in the melee, smashed beyond recognition. Blood seeped from a cut on his head, and his body was bruised and broken. His ears rang and the world was faded at the edges of vision, as he knew this was his last stand. Yet he was still resolute, hand clutching his lance with an iron grip as it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Face it, _hero_. Your defiance is at an end," snarled the cloaked figure, his dread blade dripping with the blood of the innocent and the essence of brave warriors who had attempted to deny the conqueror. The blade swept forward, and Nino could only glare in horror at the remains that still stained the steel.

Sir Ivanko the Strong.

Maximilien the Wise.

Brave Kimball.

Alixandra the Thief and Nath the Bard!

All had fallen to the villain's blade.

"Now, submit to my rule."

"Your tyranny, you monster!" Nino spat blood in defiance. The dark lord merely chuckled.

"Monster… I have been called worse."

"I can't believe you were a traitor! We trusted you! We were brothers in arms!"

The dark gauntlet tightened on the blade, which quivered.

"Brothers… Laughable. Where were you, Nino, when the Grimm came? Why shouldn't I let the demon in? The strength to command the dead who fell that night?" the armored villain roared. Nino merely glared his hatred at the pits of darkness where the figure's eyes should be behind that nightmarish helm.

"It was your madness that brought them, Anathema! You let the demons into our gates! You betrayed us, not we!"

"Silence, fool! Spare your words for your God. And when I have conquered the world with my monstrous brethren and dread legion, let God know Heaven is next."

The armored figure swept back his sword, hand readied for the beheading stroke.

"I'll see you in Hell first, Jaune!" Nino roared as he leaped from the ground, lance spearing towards the swordsman who was caught off guard by the ludicrous assault.

The dark lord was wracked with panic, snarling "I told you, the name's Vociferous M-ACK!"

Not only was there a lance stabbed in his belly, protruding out his back spilling the black blood of the damned onto the stone floor, a dying hero bleeding out at his feet, and a room of burning carnage all around him… but also a knife in his back, right between vertebrae of the spine. A mortal blow.

Jaune the Anathema whirled, through sheer force of will, staring in shock at the red-head shyly standing there with a hesitant smile on her face. Jaune's face fell in shock.

"S-Sabrina? But you were - "

"Actually a Rogue. Sorry… Chloe, sorry, _Princess_ _Clarissa_ said you'd never expect it."

"Well, darn… You realize I can probably survive this, right? I'm a Deathknight."

"Yeah, but Chloe was actually playing a Sorcerer the whole time, and has a spell coming to end you, Jaune. And I, um, slipped chains on you to keep you in place while you were talking to Nino. So I can get out of the way."

Jaune looked down at his feet. Sure enough, there were chains on his feet.

"Wow. Did _not_ see this coming."

"Well, it is kind of silly, isn't it?"

"How so?"

"Well, you and Nino got really into it and being dramatic, and it was silly, Jaune. And you were monologuing."

"Mono-what?"

"Giving a villain speech."

"Right. That was stupid of me. Gosh, I left myself wide open, and forgot to check for other foes, didn't I?"

Sabrina shyly nodded, quietly stepping away as Jaune turned to the sky shining through the ruined rooftops as the fires began to claim the building. He could maybe use his Anathema-wickedness-fueled-power to break the chains and escape, but if Chloe had picked Sorcerer, she was probably going to have enough pretend-money to devastate the entire block too with her Dust reserves. Gosh darn rich people.

No win scenario, it looked like.

"So it ends like this."

Jaune sighed, already feeling the holy magic of the Dust Sorcery building around him as he realized the heroes had just been pawns. Sacrificed for the Sorcerer to make the perfect play. Typical.

"Man, I wish I never made that bet. Now I'm gonna have to kiss Chloe tomorrow," Jaune whined in his dark armor, dread sword falling from his grasp as the roof finally collapsed over him and the world exploded with light.

-This Is Not A Pell-

Jaune was bummed as they walked back to school for afternoon classes. Mademoiselle San-Claire was going to give them such an earful for playing "Heroes and Demons" and messing up their clothes, but they got a stern talking to whenever they played foot-ball on the field or when Jaune would do something silly like use the girls' restroom when the boy's stalls were full. Mom had beaten Dad up again when she heard about it though.

Honestly, he didn't see what the big deal was really - he had to go number two and there was no way he was doing it in a bush. He shared his restroom with his sisters at home, and there was no problem there. He did not understand why it was such a big deal that he had used the girls' restroom for an emergency.

Well, he _hadn't_. Jaune was smarter now, and knew it was wrong. Sure, the complexities of the issue still eluded him somewhat, but he had a firm grasp on the whole "boys are never allowed in the girl's restroom".

In retrospect, it was rather obvious.

Still, Jaune was more bummed that he had been picked to play the villainous demon-possessed Anathema, and that he had lost the bet.

Not that he wanted the world to be overrun with monsters and Grimm and corpses from beyond the pale, but he'd figured that the hellish training his father - no, his _Sifu_ had put him under would give him an edge.

And it had. Until he got tricked.

Jaune would have to watch out for tricks next time. Having to kiss Chloe would be a constant reminder, because she'd never stop bugging him about it later. Nothing really wrong with Chloe, just that she was really mean, and used to order Sabrina to play pranks on him and the she would laugh as his nice clothes got all dirty and call him "baka" and go all red.

Jaune didn't even know what a "baka" was. It sounded made up. Shani had said it was cute and gave him a big hug to smother him as she laughed. That just made him more confused about the whole thing.

Also, acting the villain just felt wrong somehow. Like that was the exact opposite of what he was on the inside. Jaune understood that - his dream was to be a hero, even if Dad and his Moms were all resistant to the idea. They were just being worry-warts like always. Heroism was in Jaune's blood.

But once Jaune had accidentally let slip his Dad had let him start Pell Training early in his excitement those months ago, there was no way he was playing the hero's side in their games - the Villain always loses, sure, but Jaune had to be on the villain team because then he was a true bad-guy with the strength to oppress the innocent and show there was a need for heroes.

Also, no one else would be the Anathema if they had to go up against Hero!Jaune. It was suicide for the villains to go up against someone with actual training, and not moves learned from CCT TV programmes.

Democracy. What can you do?

Pouting as Nino slapped him on the back commenting about his strength, Jaune muttered darkly, "Yeah, yeah, I was a tough fight, but I still lost. Stupid bet. I should never gamble. Luck hates me or something."

Kim laughed at that. "Dude, you were really tough though! Not Huntsman like, but you were like a rock, but fast as a cat! Like a puma, or something. Man, now _I_ wish I was allowed to do Pell Training!"

Ivan grunted his assent. The tall boy wasn't much for eloquent words. Not vocally, anyway. Surprisingly quiet for a boy who was as tall as some teenagers, and would likely grow to be built like a bear.

Nathaniel had already disappeared, being eliminated early in the game on account of having absolutely no intention of putting up a resistance to Jaune's heavy-handed opening plays. Alix had been sacrificed holding Jaune at bay long enough for Chloe to get out of dodge. That was something Jaune had been most grateful about, as Alix would play while wearing skates, and there was no defense to such a small girl barreling into you on skates when you were distracted by your guy-friends. Suffice to say Alix had stormed off, furious with Chloe.

Nevertheless, Jaune didn't share Kim's enthusiasm. "You say that now… Man, it's so hard though! I mean, after school, I have to finish all my homework and chores. If I don't finish fast enough, I might miss dinner in order to finish the day's training. And it's a lot of running and carrying heavy stuff, and dragging a tire uphill by myself, and dodging the rocks Dad, no, _Sifu_ throws, and hitting a pell with the waster… I'm hitting a big stick with a smaller stick! And when I'm done and Dad tells me to go back inside and shower, I don't even remember half of what I was doing the entire time once the water's dry! I just feel sore all over! I barely get the time to stretch before bed, and then I'm dead all night."

Nino just gave his friend a wary look while Ivan patted him, gently for a giant, on the back.

"What about weapon training? You were really fast with that stick. Better than all of us," Nino wondered.

"That's probably the only fun part, and I don't even get _that_ alot. Every other day or so, really. Apparently strength training is bad until you're a teenager, so Sifu goes easy and has me do really basic stances and forms. And it's not just swords and unarmed training, but staves, spears, sabers, archery, flails, hidden weapons, heavy bludgeons, axes, shields, daggers, chains… it goes on. Whatever he feels like, really, but mostly blades of some sort, or poles. Shields too. Dad's better at those."

"Merde," Kim swore, eliciting the surprise of the boys for actually using the curse. "That sounds crazy! Why so many weapons?"

"Because he can't find one I'm good at." Jaune answered before frowning. "Well, I think that's what it is, really. Dad, er, Sifu just said 'specialization was for pansies' and that I had to know all the classic weapons because it was in the manual he had. The Tiger Warrior something. I dunno, it's written in some dead language, and Mom's trying to teach me, but I'm Dad was just trying to say I sucked without actually saying it..."

Nino reeled. "How do you even deal with that every day?"

"Honestly?" Jaune rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. "School."

The boys stopped and turned to stare at Jaune like he was crazy too.

"Sorry, come again?"

"Not sure we heard you right, mec."

"Did we hit you in the head back there?"

"I mean, school isn't really hard compared to the training Sifu puts me through. And after going through that in the mornings for training, school is super-relaxing, even when we have physical education," Jaune mused thoughtfully.

Lightbulbs went off in the boys' heads as they realized this was why Jaune had been so tired in classes every morning for the last several months. But eventually it was Max who had the insatiable curiosity to ask:

"Wait, morning training?"

"Yeah, like stretching, running a kilometer or two to warm up, sometimes having to do Dodge-training while I run as Sifu throws random stuff at me without warning, doing horse stance for an hour or more while holding some weights out in my hands and balancing a bowl of hot water on my head, doing push ups, sit-ups, squats. Endurance training. Stuff like that. Dad always leaves a note for me the night before so I know what to do.

"But I've been finishing quicker lately, so I have more free time! And I can still tend to the gardens with Mom and play Gateway with Azure on the weekends and have fun with whatever, because Dad's always busy on weekends which means training is really light those days."

There's a few moments of silence as the boys continue walking. They weren't sure how to confront Jaune about this madness on account of the blond being happy to do all this. Tired and exhausted, but happy to be training.

"Jaune," Nino began, unsure of how to say it as his friend clearly had no idea his father was insane. It was rather hard to believe, mostly for the fact that Monsieur Roland was actually one of the coolest adults Nino knew. That such a man was capable of ordering his son to undergo this level of physical hell that would make elite soldiers cry was hard to reconcile with the image Nino had of a man who safeguarded Orleans and played with the boys on the weekends when he was free. "That isn't Pell Training. That's _Hell_ Training." The other boys nodded emphatically.

Jaune just sighed. "No, it's just how boys are supposed to train. My sisters didn't have to do all of that but they're _girls_. They got the easy version."

This was understandable to the boys. It was a common belief amongst the boys that the girls in their year were most certainly delicate flowers who had not the slightest inclination to play rough or get rowdy like boys do.

Alix, naturally, was the exception. But she was better at being a boy than some boys were, and never wore dresses except to Church, so none of the boys really considered her to be a girl anyways. Alix never seemed to mind - she could kick most of their butts anyways, and would do so whenever one of the boys commented on her short height.

Nevertheless, Kim and Nino paled at the thought of having to undergo that manner of hell when they were old enough for their parents to allow them to start training. Max felt faint-headed at the sheer absurdity of an eight-year-old having to do all of that every day of the week for months.

Story was that Jaune had started the Pell after surviving Shine-Eye, Farmer Bowen's aurochs. That had been over three months ago, and after hearing that tale of "manliness", the boys his age had decided to 'rescue him from the girls' he spent so much time with. So, now Jaune was finally friends with boys his age other than Nino.

Truthfully, Jaune was strained for time by that: he was still friendly with the girls, and the boys had taken it upon themselves to teach him true rowdiness, but his undertaking of the Tiger Warrior's training methods (as modified to fit a boy who had only reached eight years of age) left him with little time to himself.

It was part of the reason why he strived to excel in his studies and training - the faster and more skillful he got with schoolwork and training, the more time he'd have free when he was done. It meant he could still be a child

Besides, there was no way he was missing Rose's tea-party. Chloe wasn't friends with Rose so she wouldn't be there, and Rose had excellent taste in cakes and biscuits, so it was sure to be an excellent party with the girls in his year.

Jaune was resolved to get stronger and finish the training faster so he wouldn't be late on Saturday.

-This Is Not A Pell-

High, low, duck, turn, parry high, sweep left, whirl right, chop down, on and on it went. Jaune had the long staff in hand, the wasters left at the side of the training grounds as his father tested Jaune's understanding of defense. His sisters stretched and practiced with wasters nearby, sparing Jaune and their father worried glances every now and then between touches.

There was no technique to the training. It wasn't a style, nor any standard form of training with staves. Instead, the idea of this exercise was very simple for Jaune to understand.

 _Try and hit Sifu. Don't get hit by Sifu._

To be honest, most of the time, it was just Jaune getting poked and hit by the practice weapons they trained with. But he was determined to try.

"Focus!" There was a rush of air as his father's staff swept to his thigh. Jaune hadn't recovered that zone of defense quick enough, and paid for it with the solid thwack of wood against his leg.

Wincing, the boy hopped back. Jaune blinked the pain away, trying to regain his bearings as his father gave him little room to recover. His leg still hurt from where he had been hit, but Jaune still had to defend.

His father was in "Sifu-mode", and wouldn't care if Jaune messed up because of something like the pain of being hit.

Pain built character, apparently. What that meant, Jaune didn't really know.

Roland spun the staff in hand, creating a lazy defense against Jaune's counterattack, but Jaune had just needed it to gain a little time to ignore the hit to his thigh. The boy immediately reacted with a basic defense against the low sweep coming out of Roland's spinning strike. Jaune knew his father was going easy on him - there was barely any pressure in the warrior's blows, but it still felt heavy, despite the dodge back Jaune used to lessen the weight of the strike.

"Defend yourself, boy!"

Shrugging off the blows that Roland rained down upon him from various angles, Jaune reacted mostly on instinct, blocking and deflecting those he was confident he had the strength to do, and dodging the rest. That much was simple, on account of being much shorter than his father - what he lacked in reach, he made up for in being evasive. He couldn't weather the blows directly, so he tried to figure out angles to hide in and attack from.

Hand over hand he spun the staff to ward off the probes before lunging with a spear-like thrust at the opening those provided, Jaune followed with a slice at his father's hands. His footwork had to be quick like firm and solid. But a last second jerk from Roland led Jaune's staff to only meet wood. Jaune grimaced as the staff demonstrated its flexibility with a clever manipulation of Roland's wrist, forcing Jaune to disengage before maneuvering back into the offense.

But as he swept for his father's head, Jaune was surprised to find his father hadn't relied on superior reach to deflect, but instead dropped low, a sweep fast as lightning aimed to destroy Jaune's stance.

Unable to maneuver quick enough, Jaune immediately tensed and let loose, springing into the air and out of the way. Roland merely grinned as the staff blurred out of Jaune's sight, blindsiding him as it smacked him in Jaune's vulnerable side.

Jaune fell to the ground, staff clattering out of his hand from the fall. Groaning, Jaune attempted to roll to grab his staff again, but froze at the pressure of the wooden staff pressing lightly on his solar plexus, holding him down. His head turned to see his father crouching low in a squat, staff in one hand applying the pressure to keep Jaune down with apparently ease.

"Be careful in the air, Jaune. A tree needs roots to stand against a storm," was the lesson Roland gave his son before the pressure holding Jaune vanished.

Groaning, Jaune got up and dusted himself off. "Thank you D - Sifu," he said with a short bow before hooking a toe under his staff and flicking it up to a waiting hand.

"Shall we continue?" asked Jaune.

Roland shook his head. "No, enough staves for today. It's getting late. Practice a hundred strikes on the pell with the waster, and stretch before heading inside."

Jaune glanced up at the sky, noticing it was still bright out. Good, fifteen weeks or so of training, and he was able to get to dinner before sun-down. He _was_ improving!

A traitorous part of him noted that it was also likely his father was starting to go easy on him because he couldn't handle it. Jaune ignored that sliver of doubt as he always did.

"Are you okay, Jaune?"

Jaune turned and smiled at Azure who stood with her slender waster in hand, having finished her rounds with Olivia. Indigo continued to train her hidden weapons as darts kept hitting the target board across the grounds.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired, but that's normal."

Olivia picked up Jaune's waster and tossed it to him. The training weapons was made of wood, the pieces cut from a mighty Hickory tree, and carved in the form of a cruciform sword. The grip was wrapped in soft cloth, perhaps leather, just to make it more comfortable to grip, but always needed to be tightened after the routine application of flax oil to keep the waster from splintering too often.

The training weapon felt comfortable in his hand, though Jaune wondered if he'd be allowed to train with the blunted metal blades when he was older like Shani and Sienna could. Bianca and Violet had already graduated to live blades, and were training at the Academies.

Times like these, Jaune missed his older sisters. The eldest two were first years as Huntresses-in-training, and the twins were at boarding school in Lutetia. They would be home before Calibration for the holidays, and Jaune couldn't wait to show his sisters how much he'd improved since they left months ago.

"Don't hurt yourself, Jaune," came Indigo's soft-spoken voice behind him. Jaune gave her a gentle grin before laughing to himself. She always worried. They never wanted him to train. They wanted him to goof off and do stupid things. Which he did anyways, but that wouldn't stop him from becoming strong.

They wanted to protect him. Jaune wanted to protect them.

"Never fear, sisters dear," Jaune joked as his sisters pouted at the rhyme. "I won't let myself get hurt. Otherwise, how will I bear your tears?"

Olivia cuffed him for the cheek, but they were all smiling.

"Don't be too late training, little brother."

Jaune waved them off before turning to the corner where the Pells were. That massive poles weighted down to stand firm, wrapped in metal bands and leather to provide a fair range of striking practice.

Standing at one of the shorter ones, he swung his waster in lazy arcs, before stretching lightly again.

"One hundred strikes."

The sound of wood smacking against wood resounded through the air once more as the little boy swung over and over again as the sun neared the horizon, scattering red and violet hues across the skies.

-This Is Not A Pell-

"He still hasn't given up?" Aude de Gennes wondered aloud, looking towards the training grounds from a window in the hall. The chateau was her domain, but even she was familiar with the sounds of the training grounds. Sister and wife to warriors, she was a far cry from a helpless homemaker.

"No," answered her husband, arms circling his wife. She sighed as she leaned into his broad chest.

"It's been months now, Row. You said he would lose heart and quit."

It wasn't just a statement, Roland noticed as the faint hint of accusation underlied her tone.

"He's stronger than we thought. Lily was right about that."

Aude frowned slightly as she felt for the strong arms around her. Pouting, she turned her head to look up at her husband behind her. His eyes were stormy again. It was mesmerizing really, and she'd fallen in love with them long ago. But now, they were clouded with hesitation and doubt.

"How can that be, Row?"

"Lily be right? She's right about many things. Like making this all work with you two. With eight beautiful children."

Aude huffed in annoyance, slapping his arm, much to Roland's amusement. "You're incorrigible."

"Always."

Aude rolled her eyes as Roland pressed a kiss to her neck, their attention drawn once more to the sounds of the Pell.

"You never taught him Inner Strength. How is he doing this? The Tiger Warrior's Training… how has he not injured himself?"

"The curse, perhaps?"

"His meridians are healing, Row. That shouldn't happen to him without at least half a sexagenary of cultivation, or energy transferral. And you didn't do it. I didn't. Kareena couldn't, Oliver wouldn't. Our parents know better. No one else knows. He hasn't been in the Forest of Carnutes…"

"I don't know, Alda-dear. I just… I don't know what to do."

"Couldn't we just deny him? Stop teaching him?"

Roland shook his head while buried in his wife's dark blue-black hair. "I started teaching him so he'd survive. Because if he doesn't go looking for trouble, it'll come to him. It's our lot."

"But you could - "

"I can't stop him from trying to become strong. I can deny him the family Arts, stunt his growth. Make it that much harder for him to discover the truth and drive him to either seek the help of strangers to us, or wallow in mediocrity. Or I could intentionally damage his potential, at the expense of causing my precious little boy harm. Or we could nurture his potential, limit his access to the Arts, and guide him to the path of an honorable and heroic Xia, in hopes that he'll overcome all obstacles in his path."

"A xia… That's his dream, no?"

"The dream of our forefathers. Our sworn promise and duty."

"Carried out however you see fit," Aude mused, a wry grin on her face. Roland grimaced as he looked away before his arms tightened around her.

"Too few these days remember the Code of the Xia. The Huntsmen have overshadowed the need for youxia - the rivers and lakes nearly drained by the meddling of the secular world."

She sighed as they stood in silence, the sounds of the waster at the Pell dying out. The girls were already starting in the bath, and Jaune would be coming in soon as well.

"We can't let him go to the Academies. The secular world… they forget the old ways, many times. We aren't bothered here, nowhere of significant consequence to any but the caretakers of history and those who seek the wisdom of yore. But the Kingdoms have forgotten the old ways. Atlas especially - savagery and injustice in the name of science, progress and prosperity. Jaune… his spirit would never survive that, not whole."

"Calm, Row. You're growling."

Roland nuzzled his wife. "Maybe I'm hungry."

"Then dinner is ready downstairs," his wife giggled and slipped from his arms. Roland let his hand chase after her, but gave up as she moved out of reach.

"But perhaps later?"

Roland smirked, a primal growl escaping his throat. Aude was being coy again, all fluttering eyelashes and smirks behind an elegant sleeve, sashes trailing like a heavenly maiden, beautiful as a goddess, a decorated fan in hand like she was ready to open a man's throat from ear to ear with it's edge. Very much the phoenix bride he had met all those years ago.

Gods above, he loved this woman.

-This Is Not A Pell-

 _ **A/N:**_ _Not really much to say at the moment. This chapter explains some things and notes that Jaune is freakishly talented - which is a given not only in Exalted, but also in RWBY canon._

 _Also note that this author greatly appreciates reader response as a means of gauging what my audience is either thinking or expecting. So, please do favorite/follow so I know you guys are enjoying this, but also let me know what you're thinking in the reviews! I'd love to hear from you all and discuss opinions and ideas._


	6. Chapter 6: Prince Not Princess

Chapter 6: Prince Not Princess

Jaune ducked under the branches as he bolted from the wolves. He was barefoot, and had been told to make it to the top of Shatterpeak where the shrine was by navigating the Lost Woods with just his breeches, a tunic tied with a short length of rope, and a simple torc around his neck. No weapons, no supplies. Just the memory of how to get to the shrine as his father had taken him on horseback as a child, and detailed for him in the instructions which were then burnt at sunrise. Oh, and the explicit instruction to never step out of the Lost Woods and into the Forest of Carnutes under pain of death.

Not that Jaune needed telling twice on that last one - the Forest of Carnutes was reputed to be a nightmarish place, from which only his father and mothers had ever survived. Bianca and Violet had gone there a few times before they left for the Academies, and had looked dead on their feet when they came out, even with Dad escorting them. There were stories about teenagers who ran away from home to avoid boarding school in Lutetia and ended up in the Forest of Carnutes, whether by mistake or desperation.

Father had been sent to recover the bodies.

Thankfully the stone markers inlaid with ancient jade were incredibly easy to spot, and Jaune steered clear of the death-trap to instead contend with the monsters and beasts that called the Lost Woods their home.

Like this pack of hungry wolves he had angered.

Jaune's feet barely touched the ground as he raced, trying to remember how that Lightfoot technique worked. Da-Sifu never taught him the method, but he'd been spying on Azure while she practiced, and all Jaune could really understand was that it involved a kind of energy in the body that Jaune didn't know how to use.

He was sure he had it though, because he could feel it sometimes when he did his exercises. It was also noticeable when he prayed every day and every night. Or did Sun Salutation exercises. It was a kind of super-power that was his and his alone. But Azure had something like it, as did Mom and Dad and other-Mom as well as all his sisters.

And when they used it, it was like there was this thrum in the fabric of the universe that just resounded with one's will. Violet once said it was called Aura.

It was magical.

But Jaune hadn't been told the trick, and was trying to invent it himself on the fly. While running from the pack of starving canines with their ruddy-grey coats and snarling jaws that barks and yipped directions as the pack swarmed.

He pulled back on a low-hanging branch as he ran past, letting it whip back and smack a yelping wolf in the snout. That gave him a meter or two more lead on the pack than before, but they were quickly catching up.

Part of Jaune worried about what would happen if they caught up with him. Another part of Jaune chastised himself for not looking where he was going and tripping over that root when he ran into the wolves.

To be honest, he'd been singing and humming to himself all the way along, letting his feelings of calm and friendship wash throughout the woods. It was a lot like the song he sang for Shine-Eye, but now he could tell that that magical power inside him was humming with him, resonating through something that wasn't sound, but nevertheless displaying that the energy wasn't just in him, but all around him.

Birds chirped along to his tune, the squirrels chattered as they raced along with him. A burrow of voles had come out to chitter their song. Foxes brushed against his feet, bushy tails tickling as they nuzzled into his hands.

A doe and her fawn paused to lend their ears, showing Jaune some trails his wilderness-training hadn't picked up on, leading up towards the peak as he found the path.

Rabbits had leaped to join him in their own form of dance, exulting in the glories of nature. Bears danced along with him, joining him in their lumbering two step as Jaune knew no one would ever believe he'd attempted an impromptu choreography with bear cubs and their grizzly mother before being reminded of his time-limit and destination.

The wolves had been hunting an injured boar when they were drawn by the music. He'd crossed the stream with the help of a friendly snake showing him how to find the shallows, and was well on his way towards the slopes. So when the wolves appeared from the brush, Jaune had only thought they were being friendly to see who was wandering their territories and making music.

They said as much with their barks and yips, their bodies a language of its own. Jaune was quickly learning how the animals talked, and felt very much proud of himself for being so clever as to learn it.

No one would ever believe him, but that wasn't too much of an issue for Jaune. If he ever got bored, he would be able to have a conversation with birds about what it was like to fly, or cats about their sunny afternoons, and horses about how much he appreciated them allowing humans to ride them.

Not that most of those animals would really understand all that - animals weren't particularly bright like humans and faunus were, Jaune noticed.

But the wolves were relatively neutral with Jaune, mostly sniffing about him as he walked along. It was actually quite distracting really, as their noses were wet and they licked his hands sending shivers down his arms.

So distracting that he hadn't noticed the tree root which caught his foot, tripping him with a discordant scream escaping his lips. And the fall landed him on the pack alpha's, throwing it to the ground with a yelp in his scramble to keep standing. He might have accidentally punched it in the mouth too. And maybe planted his foot in its gut as he tried to get off. He wasn't entirely sure at the time.

Getting up with a groan, Jaune had attempted to sing again, but found that the wolves were no longer in the mood for music and fun. They had remembered they were hungry, and that Jaune had just 'attacked' the pack alpha.

Now he was going to be food.

So Jaune ran, little legs carrying him rapidly through the forest as he ignored the pain of his bare feet on the dirt and stones, leaping over bushes to slow down the wolves, winding through the trees as he tried to figure out how to get that Lightfoot to work properly.

At best, he was just relying on the fact that he'd been spending the last several months running back and forth, sometimes with weighted loads, and training his endurance. That practice was saving his life at the moment, as it allowed him to keep just ahead of the wolves.

But unless he could figure out that Lightfoot…

Wait.

A stream, up ahead! Jaune was on the right track at least, but it was a hope. If the stream was too deep, he might be able to swim faster than the wolves, and escape into a tree and try screaming for help. If was too shallow, it would barely slow them down.

It was worth a shot.

Jaune bolted out of the tree line, feet scraping against the silt by the stream, breathing deep to make as big a leap as possible to get far into the stream before he had to try and swim -

And cursed himself for not paying attention to his surroundings.

 ***SWOOSH!***

The ground fell away beneath Jaune's feet as he felt something seize him by shoulders of his tunic and carry him away. Wind beat around him in tune to the explosive sounds of massive, feathered wings, and Jaune could feel the press of talons on the cloth threatening to pierce his skin.

Looking up, Jaune found himself confronted with the underside of a massive bird, heading towards the ridge. Shatterpeak, in fact. As best as he could remember, this was likely a great condor. It wasn't actually a condor of any sort - it resembled an eagle or hawk more than a condor, to be honest - but that was just what people called these massive birds. It seemed a little silly, really.

They competed with the strix on the other side of the ridge for hunting grounds, but as strix were nocturnal, it seemed like the two families of massive bird-beasts had found an equilibrium they were happy with. Both were equally happy to chase away any Nevermore or Griffons that entered their skies, but more often than not the Grimm were all too willing to fight back, taking one of these majestic birds with them.

Problem was this one didn't have that bracelet on it's foot and the mark under its neck that marked the great condor Dad had told was "reasonably friendly". So it was probably going to eat him. Jauned whined at the thought.

Well, at least there was one bright side to this disaster: It was taking him to Shatterpeak. But now it seemed like instead of wolf-food, he was going to be bird-food!

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire, huh?"

Not a good end to a would-be hero, Jaune admitted. But perhaps he could charm this bird into helping him instead.

With a few test hums, Jaune noticed that the bird must not be hearing him due to the wind. He'd have to shout and test the might of his resonant song.

He was distracted for a moment or two when the great condor shifted him in it's talons as its wings swept past low flying clouds. The passing of the white feathered wings slicing through the wisps of moisture like a blade through mist was enthralling, and Jaune wondered if anyone had thought to make a martial art based on these mighty birds. How sharp their eyes must be, to pick out something as small as Jaune or the other animals they hunted, from all the way up here. Perhaps he could learn to do the same?

Then again, he was feeling a little woozy this high up, and looking down was just making him panic. But the more he looked, the more he could see, and understand the topography of his home and the wilderness it neighbored.

What had seemed so mighty and grand from down there was almost tiny in perspective from up here. The streams Jaune struggled to cross without issue were like tiny veins of blue in a sea of emerald green, the air cooling as the condor carried him up, reminding him that the summer was nearing it's end, and both his mothers and his sisters would be home for Calibration. The trees were like slender spines on the back of a great beast from this angle, their leaves nothing more than soft, deceitful camouflage.

The terrain unfolded before him, and he saw the slope and swells of the land, the way that the clouds chased around in the skies, and the bountiful reaches of Heaven above, illusive and untouchable by mortal hand. Orleans, in the distance by the river, was a glittering paradise of stone and painted wood, light glistening upon the coursing river

He saw the approach to the many-crowned head of Shatterpeak, it's ridges and woven spires reaching from the earth to touch the heavens. Quickly he puzzled out the language of the birds, and wove his song to draw the great condor's attention.

The majestic creature took a moment to notice, the sound having trouble carrying against the wind that rushed past Jaune and the condor as it flew towards its nest. He had to sing over the din of its beating wings, each like a thunderclap from this close, stirring the air like a broom swept the floor, throwing the air like it was a plaything for the great condor to glide and smoothly dance over.

He could see his song take effect, the condor's cries joining him as it added to his song.

It sang of high mountains and low valleys. Of verdant grasslands and rocky cliffs. The majesty of the sky, and the prey below. The plucked two-leggers that dominated the world, and forced it to these mountains. The birth-place it fled once it learned to fly, away from the featherless hunters who dared steal his siblings. The brother it had found once more, freed of bounds, yet changed by strife. Of its understanding and acceptance of hunger, the ruthlessness of the hunt, its sacred duty to the god of great condors, and the aloof detachedness that came to mighty lords of the air.

The great condor sang of the Holy Cloud Wars of the past that its mother once sang of in the nest. Its first flight, and the thunderbird which spoke to it as it fell through the air, telling it and now telling Jaune the secret of the wing, as the thunderbirds had told its ancestors when they were born from the blood and jubilant thunderclaps of wind-gods. It had a name, but Jaune did not understand it's meaning. The bird spoke spoke of spirits of air that danced through the clouds and chased through the trees below. Of storms and power, thunder and lightning, and the conflict and arguments it had with the annoying strix. Of the time it had witnessed a garda-hatchling tending to the flames of a tree-fire after a lightning strike, sweeping the crowns before disappearing in the smoke which took days to preen out of its feathers. Its song described the power of storms ravaging the world and the arguments of storm-serpents and weather gods over their duties and territories.

Of the mate who had wandered away to be trapped in a dance with a cloud spirit, unable to return for several springs, and the eggs it wished to have in the far future with its mate: children to tell stories as its mother would tell it. It mused at Jaune's prompting that perhaps the fleshy two-legger who was singing to it in the language of the birds was in fact a decent sort if it could carry a tune like a great condor and appreciate the majesty of its world.

Jaune, on the other hand, revised his opinion on birds - from the woodland, everyday variety he had assumed them to be creatures of limited intelligence. But the great condor was clearly an exception.

Still, as he kindly added the request to be dropped off close to the path up Shatterpeak to his song, that perhaps he had made a friend of this great condor. And from the way it gabbed, it was likely to tell many of the other creatures of the Lost Woods of the boy who sang in the language of the birds, crafting music like the whispers of the spirit-lords which spoke to them in their dreams.

Jaune couldn't help but flush at the compliment. His voice wasn't as great as the bird made it out to be - he hadn't mastered the language, after all. But apparently having a pretty voice was good enough, regardless of faulty grammar.

What was possibly worse for Jaune's composure was the comment that his pretty voice would likely attract a good mate, but he seemed much too small for a tailless monkey to do that yet. He'd have to grow bigger and learn to fly if he wanted to be a proper male.

Jaune admitted to not knowing how to fly - he had no wings.

The condor was amused, laughing as it described the conundrum of its majestic body. The great condor's bones had to be strong to support its size and girth. Yet light enough to glide and soar on the winds. It had powerful wings and sharp talons. Its tail feathers were splendid. It was the great condor's right to fly.

The featherless ape would have to be satisfied with mimicking the great condor's mighty trick. The best it could try for now was leaping like a great monkey king. Perhaps one day, the human prey it carried and befriended would learn to leap across clouds, or devise his own method of using the great condor's method.

There were many gaps in the knowledge, as the bird had no care for human anatomy or understanding of the energy flows of humans and faunus. But the principle was the idea that sufficiently cultivated energy was a necessary step, then it was simply a matter of conscious direction and practice until it became almost subconscious and automatic.

The condor did not know how to explain how a human was to cultivate these energies, just that the one it carried had them and could cultivate and train them. Great condors grew up and lived forever. Then they died, and ascended to become spirits of air and wind, where they would find the limitless hunting-grounds of Heaven, with impossibly vast skies of endless blue. The bird knew it was so, for its mother had whispered it was so when it was just an egg. There was no need for explanation of what was considered obvious, so it had none.

Not long after the explanation of the trick, Jaune spotted the trail he would need to get to the shrine. He had been there as a child, and the markers along the path were ancient but noticeable as the great condor swept along the treeline.

With his song, Jaune requested that he take his leave of his new friend, and that perhaps he would be back to say hello sometime if he could. The condor merely swooped low before releasing its talons on Jaune. The boy fell and tumbled to the ground as he had practiced before, none the worse for the wear as the condor hovered.

At the boy's wave farewell, the great condor let out a mighty cry to shake the heavens, gales stirred by its mighty wings as it left to return to the hunt. Watching it disappear around the sides of the mountain as it hunted, Jaune wondered if his father would be surprised at how quickly Jaune had gotten there.

He then pondered whether the bird hadn't been making things up when it told him how to leap through the sky and stir the wind. It sounded like a great technique!

-Prince Not Princess-

Roland failed to notice his son sneaking up the mountain trail before creeping up the steps hewn from the ancient stone. He was practicing his formless techniques before the statue in the shrine.

A king of shining light whose crown was radiance and warmth. Resplendent lotuses blossomed at his feet and his hand bore a mudra of compassion and justice. Face fair and beautiful like a youth, but resolute and aged with wisdom. A sword was ready at his waist to cut through will of his enemies, a shield bearing the blazing iconography of the sun at the ready to defend against all assault. A bow slung across his chest which always struck true, for his eyes saw only truth. Robes of brilliant gold thread adorned his form. His scepter promised a just rule, and his statue blazed gold under the light of the sun. Such was the Golden Shining Lord to whom the Arc family prayed.

The shrine was old and tended to monthly; those sisters who were home offered prayer upon the completion of their duties at the direction of their father and mothers. Jaune hadn't been up here since the morning of his birthday - waking up by the as he was directed to bath in the stream before offering prayers at the break of dawn, before falling asleep to wake in his bed once more.

Thinking about it now, as Jaune entered the circle of standing stones, fires burning bright in the braziers that surrounded the shrine, that while this wasn't the very precipice of Shatterpeak (which had several precipices and thus looked like it's peak had been shattered by a smite from Heaven - thus the name), it was still quite a distance from the Chateau de Lune, his family home. If he wandered a little ways to the edges where the land beneath his feet fell away to open air, he would be able to see the home. His father once mentioned it only took him twenty minutes by foot to reach the Shining Lord's shrine from the chateau, which spoke of either secret passages or the ability to fly.

Naturally, Jaune would have to take the long way up here until his father deemed his skills acceptable enough to take the "easy-way" up to the shrine.

Jaune contented himself with watching his father finish his practices - a dance of some sort, but done with his father's personal sword: Durendal.

Durendal was a beautiful blade. Jadesteel with a cruciform hilt, it's orichalcum alloyed fuller was inscribed with runes in the language of the old gods. The sword shone white like a ray of light captured in the warrior's hand, hilt golden from the orichalcum adornments which befitted a sword of majesty, inscribed with prayers to ensure the blade's might.

It was an artifact of eons past, used by heroes and cared for by the greatest of smiths in legend. The blade was unbreakable, destroying any weapon which attempted to destroy such a beautiful weapon, and so sharp that its edge was capable of shearing a boulder in two with a single swing. Its motion stirred the air, the idle promise of a hurricane chained to a blade, and in the hands of a master was capable of unleashing a swift end to thousands in a mere instant.

His father's skill was already at the level that he didn't need weapons to slay monsters - a single twig was enough to fell an Ursa Major. With the holy Durendal, his loyal sword, in hand, who could gainsay Roland the Brave?

But seeing his father practice was the ancient sword, one whose design and style had fallen out of style in the last century since the Great War, reminded Jaune of other sights he had seen. Images and memories he knew he shouldn't have because Jaune wasn't in these visions. Dreams of people he didn't know, yet was intimately familiar with. They were like family he had never met, and Roland's sword and his practice up here reminded Jaune of those dreams.

The dancing blade glistened under the sunlight parting through the sparse clouds, the practice stilled as Roland sheathed the sword. Jaune finally stepped forward and his father took notice.

"How long have you been there, Jaune?" his surprised father asked.

"Not long," was his honest answer.

Roland straightened and glanced down the mountain path, before looking up at the sun in the sky. He noted the direction and length of the shadows, and made a sound of amazement.

"I didn't expect you till nightfall. I had a tent prepared for the night, to do the rights once the sun rose."

Jaune rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. He wondered if getting the help of the inhabitants of the Lost Woods might be cheating. "I made some friends in the Lost Woods who helped me out."

"Friends?" Roland raised an eyebrow.

"I was running from wolves, when a great condor snatched me. I managed to convince it to let me off by the steps."

Roland blinked as his son just gave the man a shy smile. ' _Honesty,'_ the man noticed, shaking his head with a teasing smile.

"Good grief, Jaune. You certainly have a way with animals, don't you? First the angry bull you calmed with a song, now you tell me you've spoken to one of the Lost Woods' mightiest birds, a great condor?"

"Animals aren't very bright, but they helped out alot! And they're really nice if you sing and dance with them the way they like, and they told me all sorts of tricks and secrets to surviving in the woods. Except the wolves, but only because I hurt their leader by accident when I tripped over a root." Jaune's pout was adorable.

Roland laughed. "What have I said about trees, Jaune? What's the most important part of the tree?"

Jaune mumbled petulantly under his breath. Roland cupped his ear and leaned closer. "What was that?" he asked mirthfully. "I didn't quite catch that?"

"The roots…" Jaune muttered.

"That's right -"

 _ ***WHUMP!***_

Jaune fell to the ground, his legs gone from under him as his side hit the stone beneath him. Shocked, Jaune reacted like he had been trained, leaping back to his feet, wary as his father had just looked down at him, not the least bit perturbed by the leg sweep he'd just done to his son. It almost seemed like he hadn't noticed he'd done so.

"- so mind your roots, little sapling."

"Yes Dad."

"Dad?"

"I mean, yes Sifu."

"Good. Now change into the spare clothes I packed, and let's ask the gods to keep you from dying during training."

-Prince Not Princess-

The prayers were different from what Jaune remembered. But he reasoned it was due to the circumstances. Jaune prepared for the rites as always - ritual bathing and purification, the burning of incenses and various fragrances whose fumes settled the area like mist, followed by prayers to the god of beginnings and the lords of the thresholds of rituals. Then came the salutations to the directions and the reverences due to various divinities who might be in attendance, invisible to their mortal eyes (but Jaune was certain he could spot them now, just out of the corner of his eyes, and his father was uncannily good at guessing their names).

This was followed by the sacred dances which Jaune always found a little silly, but his father explained they were just a way of showing off the family's skill in the arts. It got the heart pumping, and dancing to the tune of their song as they breathed in the scent of the burned offerings put them in the right frame of mind. It was a ritual process with many symbols that Jaune idly recognized and intuitively understood the purposes of, but was ultimately uninterested in as he poured his soul into the simple act of dance. Dancing was easy for Jaune; he was good at it, and thus greatly enjoyed the art of dance. There was an energy there, but it pervaded the world as Jaune found the dance helping in tune those energies to a specific song.

Then the call to the Shining Lord to grace the shrine with his benevolent presence to witness their prayers and the ritual in question, to receive their offerings and request the Lord's blessings. The god was named and bade to grace them with the presence of the divine.

Jaune could feel the weight of the prayers starting to take hold, noting it was very much like the energy he could feel within him, and within all the living creatures he had met and in the earth and water and skies and fire. The energy and thrum was always different - different songs sung to different tunes accompanied by different dances.

But the energy he could feel as the prayers built to height and the offerings were made as the sun scattered red and violet hues through the sky, making its descent beyond the horizon, was powerful enough for Jaune to take notice. His father didn't seem to feel much of the difference, but Jaune knew that something was listening.

The gods were not simply hearing their prayer - they were taking notice.

A burning sensation touched Jaune as his father ushered him forward, presenting him to the icon of the Shining Lord much like his mothers presented him on his birthday. They kneeled and bowed in supplication as the statue blazed from the light of the fading sun as it scattered a rainbow of hues across the skies. His father motioned for him to say the special prayers he had been taught, and the language of the old gods fell from his lips before building into a crescendo as the images wrought from his dreams seized hold.

Jaune saw himself, but not himself, standing at the altar of temples he had never visited, offering prayers in languages of divinities, and speaking with the lords and ladies of Heaven. He saw himself, but not himself, traveling the world and not the world, for there were many wonders he had only pictured in the writings of books and fairy tales. He used, but did not use, this language to perform miracles and help people. Legends were spoken in this tongue, and he knew it well, though his parents had only ever taught him a few words and phrases. It was almost natural to him, as if he had been born knowing the language of the gods and the power it held without ever understanding its truth. With these words, the gods spoke mountains to rise from the earth, spoke rivers to sprout from nothingness, to cause oceans to form. To bring fire and life as wood grew from the ground and the skies above spun and danced as the wind raced free. It was written on the walls and ceilings of the temples of forgotten civilizations, its words emblazoned to name the houses and districts and roads of the Celestial City. This was the language of the gods, and its words were the words of Heaven.

It was old and powerful and greater than Jaune. He knew it by heart, as he had spoken it before.

Jaune humbly requested the Shining Lord hear his plea and answer the request his father wished him to make - for the blessing of the old gods, and the blessing that he might fulfill his filial duties as a son to his parents, as a brother to his sisters, as a friend and comrade to his close friends and acquaintances, as a student to his teachers and instructors, and servant to those whom he owed loyalty, respect and devotion. For his lessons in the use of Aura and the ways of the Xia be fruitful, his faith to his cause be unbreakable. His legend - immortal. Soul unbound, infinite in scope, possessing virtue beyond compare: everlasting glory under Heaven!

Then he named himself, voice echoing on the mountain-top shrine nestled in the comfort of the crowned earthen spires thrust to heaven, the circle of standing stones resonating like a tuning fork to his words:

"For I am Jaune Luna Arc of Orleans, born to Lord Roland Arc de Braye, Lady Aude de Gennes and Lady Kareena Vyaghra. Brother to seven older sisters, scion of heroes, and knight-errant in training.

"I am… I am a…"

Jaune paused, hesitant. His brows furrowed in confusion. He was forgetting something. There was another title there, and it was important. But he couldn't remember what it was supposed to be another title, and it was of paramount importance to who he was. It wasn't there last time he did this, nor among those his father had told him to include as well. But it was still a salient title.

It was something that defined him now, but he… what was it? What was this title he held that was so important? What was…

His body exploded with light, and his brow ignited with the blessings of the sun.

Oh.

He could hear the celestial maidens playing the songs of heaven in the courts of gods, their beauty enough to enchant lesser men and their hands skillfully playing instruments whose strings were glistening light, plucked and fingered to the song of a chorus of cherubim. Their voices lifted to heaven and proclaimed the might and power of the Shining Lord's justice, and the virtue of the King of Heaven. He could hear the roar of celestial lions at the gates, the songs of heaven unfolding as the statue seemed to come to life before his very eyes. The song was merely his herald.

His eyes pierced through all illusion, seeing the truth of the world, and Jaune felt naked before his gaze. The torc around Jaune's neck burned with the power coursing through him, prayers uttered during it's forging known to him instantly. He could feel his skin being stripped away, flesh evaporating, borns flung to the horizons as Jaune felt his soul laid bare.

And the Shining Lord smiled.

" **Thou art Lawgiver, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Priest of the Most High. Perhaps more. What blessings thou request of me, thou art already possess, child, or easily within thine reach."**

Jaune blinked in surprise, before looking down at his hands. Light shone from his body, pure white, as it wisped like smoke from a heatless sun. He was drawing in power, making it his, and using it to make his will be done. But the force driving it all was within him already. It was his.

This was… _power_. Excellence. Perfection. Overwhelming Radiance. Infinite in depth and shattered limitations. It was his soul made light, mixed with something infinitely greater in potential. That which shook Heaven to its roots and forged the greatest of legends in its deeds. It was Aura, and at the same time, so much more than such a simple expression of his soul's spiritual voice.

He was a Lawgiver, and this was his right.

"Huh."

He'd done this all wrong. Jaune was using the energy within him to filter the celestial energies inherent to prayer and utilizing his body to transform that energy into something that would reach past the mortal realm to the divine, drawing the attention of a god to the mortal world, then forcing said god to appear and manifest physically through an open channel Jaune himself was sustaining. Jaune felt lucky the god he had called upon was understanding and hadn't moved to try smiting him for his temerity.

The strain had already begun to tax him physically as his Inner Strength and the energies that coursed through his meridians were rapidly used up in this faulty and inefficient call. The power of prayer had allowed him to accidentally brute-force his way past the usual methods of calling gods to being on the mortal world, but taking the burden of manifestation of a divinity as powerful as the Shining Lord was immense. The open channel was starting to drain from his surroundings, and his father was quickly passing out. Jaune hurriedly began drawing back out of this unexpected summonings, breaking the connections that were allowing the channel to sap his energies and rescind his summons, sending the divinity back to Heaven before Jaune destroyed himself.

The Shining Lord only gave him a gentle smile before the chorus died away and the blazing light emanating from the figure disappeared in the blink of an eye, returning to an ancient and ornate statue of immense beauty once more.

Jaune idly noted his success and muttered a prayer begging forgiveness for botching this up, and a short prayer to the lord of endings to finish this before slumping to join his father in unconsciousness.

When the two woke up, Jaune and his father found the lights gone, the skies dark with the moon hanging behind idle clouds, the flames in the braziers burning low. It was well into the night and the incense had long vanished, the statue still and serene as always.

Part of Jaune wondered if it was only a dream. But he could feel the thrum of some fire burning deep within him, and doubted that very much.

-Prince Not Princess-

 _ **A/N**_ _: There's a lot happening in this chapter, and some are fun things that go about when you realize that Solars are surprisingly good at talking to animals, especially since some of their abilities are straight up "I'm a goddamn Disney Princess, and woodland creatures love me". Intelligent, nigh-immortal God-blooded birds the size of small airplanes capable of carrying off a heifer in its talons, on the other hand, are just good conversation. Also, prayer is amazing in Exalted, but sadly under utilized as a plot element in my games on account of my players treating it like fluff._


	7. Chapter 7: Drunk Spider Party

Chapter 7: Drunk Spider Party

"So, I see we're running from Chloe."

"Wow, Nino! Nothing escapes your eyes!"

It was true - the two boys were indeed running through the side streets of Orleans, as was usual with boys their age during the lunch period, and the direction they were running was indeed away from the young blonde with a ponytail and her red-headed minion.

"Ha ha, laugh it up. Mind telling me why we're running from Chloe?"

"She's trying to give me a scarf."

"And this explains why we are bolting from her and Sabrina… how?"

"Because I don't want the scarf and don't know how to tell her that it looks itchy and if I take it I'm worried I'll have an allergic reaction or something. Not to mention that if I take it she'll start calling me an idiot again like when I told her her hair pin looked nice," Jaune explained. "And if I don't take it, she'll be mad and want to know why. And if I tell her I think it's tacky, she'll start hitting me. And if I lie, she'll know and hit me anyways. And if I took it and my sisters found out, then Olivia and Chloe would start arguing again, and I really don't want that to happen!"

"I see," Nino nodded sagely, wise that he was in the ways of the world, as the two boys attempted to run away from the girl who was calling after them. So they darted through the alleyways to lose her.

"Good," Jaune smiled, happy his friend understood.

"So we're running away because you're being a coward."

"What?" Jaune spluttered indignantly. "No! I'm not a… we're not… this is a _tactical retreat_!"

"From a girl."

"Yes! Girls are scary. Pretty, but _scary_."

"This, coming from the boy who wore a blouse last week..."

Jaune nearly face-faulted as he mumbled in his defense, "Azure said… I thought it was a tunic…"

"You were wearing a matching hairband and bracelet. You color coordinated with your socks!" Nino proclaimed, much to Jaune annoyance because they'd already talked about this.

"What, guys can't look nice?"

"It was a blouse! You had makeup on!"

"My _sisters_ put it on me! They're scary! Pretty and soft and lovable and warm, but scary!"

Nino paused. No matter how pretty Jaune's sisters were (which he couldn't help but admit, no matter how much the brunette knew without a doubt that all girls that weren't moms were kinda icky), nor how much they were loved by the schools and people around town who knew them well, there was no denying that Jaune's sisters were bloody terrifying sometimes. Mostly because they were all trained from an early age how to defend themselves. Even sweet, charitable Olivia who helped with the school gardens on occasion was known to have a mean left hook. And the older ones were far more skillful than most Huntresses-in-training their ages. They weren't called the Seven Deadly Sisters for nothing.

"Point," Nino acceded as they caught their breath while hiding behind an automobile parked in the alleyway by the cobbler's shop. "But that doesn't explain why _I'm_ running away too."

Jaune turned to the other boy, shocked. "Because we're friends, and you're sharing my pain?"

"What! How is that fair?"

"Well, I just thought that since you started running when I did that you understood that!"

"No, it's ridiculous! Let's get back to the school's grounds, you're being an idiot!"

Jaune gasped dramatically as Nino slowed, moving to head back. "Betrayal! Betrayal most foul! How could you suggest I return there to meet my doom?"

Nino just deadpanned at Jaune. "Dude, really? Doom?"

Jaune pouted. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"Yeah, yeah, man up," Nino rolled his eyes as Jaune reluctantly followed him back to the school yard.

They took the long way back to avoid Chloe and Sabrina, mostly at Jaune's begging and awfully effective mimicry of puppy-dog eyes, aiming to enter through the back of the school. On the way they noted that the main streets were lined with men and women putting up decorations for the Calibration festivities. The buildings were cleared of dust and blemish, the inn, taverns and restaurants bristling with orders to fill later during the parties, streets being lined with streamers and the laundry lines decorated with stars and crosses.

Booths were beginning to pop up and be decorated in the town square, selling wares and promising treats and entertainment the next week during the five-day holiday. The people were busy, and it wasn't just the fact that Calibration was a hectic time of year, but most importantly, it was one of the strangest times of year. And during such days of uncertainty, nothing was safer or more appealing than a good old fashioned festival. On the days when the sky darkens as the harvest seasons finish and the autumn falls away towards the snows of winter.

Jaune was enraptured by the preparations, as he usually was. Calibration was always a mysterious time for him, mostly on account of the fact that he was rarely allowed to attend for too long, and never unaccompanied. His sisters had stories about how fun and magical they all were, and the sights that could be seen only during a Calibration festival in full swing at night. He paid particular attention to a masks booth being set up, marveling at a tiger mask with a fierce roar on it's black lips, teeth bared in menace as it's painted expression showed it's dreadful might.

"I wonder if I have enough to get that for Mom," Jaune wondered aloud as he rummaged through his pocket for his allowance.

Nino blinked and gave him a look, before remembering what his friend meant. "Oh yeah, your other mom arrived a few days ago, didn't she? I keep forgetting you have two of them."

Jaune shrugged. "Yeah, she did. Would have liked more warning, but that's Mom for you. Gone for months at a time, then suddenly appearing out of nowhere to savage you with her hugs and affection. And claws."

"Seriously?" Nino laughed.

"Yup."

-Drunk Spider Party-

Jaune had been doing laps around the training grounds when he noted a distortion at the edge of his vision. Immediately he dodged to the side as the projectile screamed past where his head and neck used to be. The boy tucked and rolled away as he figured more rocks would follow up the initial assault, but he couldn't find easy cover and would have to hope his reflexes were fast enough to avoid the rocks.

Speaking of rocks, what in the world was that rock his Dad had thrown at him? It was huge, almost like a boulder, only long and red and black and orange, with limbs and…

Oh no.

Jaune whirled as he spotted the figure immediately tensing as it landed on all fours before springing back towards him, forelimbs outstretched as razor sharp claws extended from the pads of the figure's fingertips.

Jaune wasn't ready for this! He hadn't even graduated from rock-training, how was he supposed to handle this?!

"JAUNE! I'VE MISSED YOU!"

The feline-esque figure tackled Jaune to the ground as her tiger claws broke through his defenses to wrap him into a bone breaking embrace, bearing him down to the ground. The woman quickly rubbed her cheek against Jaune's in an affectionate manner as she leaped to her feet, Jaune barely more than a rag doll in her mighty arms.

"Hi Mom. You're back early. Dad was expecting you tomorrow."

"What, you didn't miss me?"

"No! I'm just surprised you're early! And that Dad's likely going to move me from rocks to acorns if I could dodge one of your surprise hugs…"

Kareena Vyaghra, much like the tigress whose claws she shared, had a toothy smile that was both fascinating and fear-inspiring. But to Jaune and his sisters, it was one of the warmest smiles they knew, full of love and passion. She was their tiger mother, and they loved her. Her skin was lightly tanned from long days as a Huntress, just returned from a long-term mission. Her hair was the color of a tiger's hide, all orange and rough with patches of white and lines of dark black, styled in a lazy braid and tail. Her claws were sharp, yet her fingers were soft like feline pads, and her teeth were like the great cat's fangs, and Jaune knew better than to make her angry.

So he let her smother him in her bosom as she carried him inside where his other mother Aude was laughing quietly behind a long sleeve.

"So I hear you started the Pell and are learning Row's Inner Energy methods."

"Yes."

"Are they bearing fruit, little cub?"

"I think so?"

Kareena looked down at Jaune, still trapped in her arms, struggling to get free. "You _think_ so?"

"Well, it's hard to tell. Sometimes it works, sometimes there's a block like it's going the wrong way or taking a longer route to the same place. I dunno how else to describe it."

Kareena frowned.

"Sounds like I need to talk to my dear husband about your training, little cub."

Jaune paled at the sound of that. "Please don't throw me into a tiger pit like you threw Violet," he whimpered, terrified.

His mother merely raised an imperious eyebrow as she looked down at him. "What was that?" Her arms tightened, fingers dangerous.

"Nothing!"

-Drunk Spider Party-

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"She threw your sister in a tiger pit?"

"Well, no…"

"Oh, thank God."

"They couldn't find tigers on such short notice, so Dad rustled up some rabid bears from the Lost Woods and then Mom threw Violet into the pit with them."

Nino face-faulted, tripping over his own feet at the sound of that manner of training. Recovering quickly, he attempted to join Jaune in nervous laughter as they continued to walk along.

"Well, at least Calibration ought to be fun. You looking forward to anything specific, Nino?"

Nino grinned. "It's a five day holiday, mec. What's not to love?"

"Well, I heard Father Gambe's really enthusiastic about this year's sermons…" Jaune noted. For Oumists, Calibration was one of the most holy of festivals - every morning of Calibration, the 'flock' gathered in churches and cathedrals to pray and listen to sermons. All the fun stuff happened afterwards, and being made to wait through that was a struggle for many children.

"Killjoy," Nino scowled.

"Hey, Calibration is one of a Huntsman's busiest weeks. Dad's not around much as he's preparing for it, and my Moms are going to be busy readying my sisters for the daily rites. All the other huntsmen will be patrolling the walls and fields and making sure nothing goes wrong at the ruins and the barrows or anywhere else. And I'm not even allowed outside the house during Calibration without my parents around, and can't even be outdoors after sundown. _You're_ an Oumist - you just need to listen to sermons each morning, and every night is a party for you."

Nino frowned at that. "Really? Why aren't you allowed outside?"

"Evil omens or something. Dad says monsters tend to show up during Calibration because all the magic is wonky and Heaven is on sabbatical for the holiday to keep track of it. So Dad wants I'm to be safe at home, especially after nightfall."

"Huh. My dad says everything is strange during Calibration because God's preparing the world for winter and the next year, and pray to make sure He hears our souls while thanking Him for a bountiful harvest. After that, we celebrate all the good things that happened since the last one and pray we don't have too much bad until the next. And party hard because winter's around the corner."

Jaune shrugged. "That's cool too."

"So, what, you're just going to stick around at home then?"

"Guess so."

"Sounds boring."

"Eh, I figure something will come up to keep me occupied. Mom's insisting I spend the time reading through all those books and helping translate which is boring, but who knows, maybe there'll be an interesting read among them."

Nino's snort showed his opinion about that clearly. Jaune sighed. He wasn't very convinced either.

-Drunk Spider Party-

Like the few Calibration celebrations Jaune could remember, this one began the same way as all the others - with Jaune being told which prayers to recite to which entities before filing away to do virtually nothing of consequence. Though, it was at least the first day, so his father decided to take him to Orleans to allow Jaune to play ball games with his friends, and if it wasn't too late by the end of it, they could watch the fights on the lei-tai until tea-time.

Naturally, Jaune lost at foot-ball. This wasn't unexpected because Jaune somehow ended up on the team opposing virtually every athletic boy and girl their age. It was somewhat daunting to attempt to win against the allied forces of Kim, Alix, Nino, and Ivan among others when you were the only sporty type on your team. Foot-ball was a team game, after all. Cunning stratagems did allow them to score two goals past Ivan's bulk at the net, but they couldn't prevent the other team from scoring six in return.

After Jaune's team was eliminated in the first round, he found himself free to play at the other games on the athletic fields. Under overcast skies, Jaune idled with some of the old-timers playing Gateway, their old bones and injuries from long careers preventing them from partaking in the athletic merriment.

Jaune quickly found himself learning much about the game, despite himself, as the wily old coots were able display a cunning that only came from experience, and picked up several new stratagems that weren't discussed in traditional manuals (not that Jaune ever bothered using the manuals - they were far too predictable, after all). He also managed to successfully dodge their pinches at his cheeks this year!

Afterwards, he gave some of his pocket money for the day to a beggar panning the streets, before watching the duels and bouts on the lei tai, a raised platform roughly four feet in height off the ground, marvelling at the display of spear vs staff and noting the lines of attack each contestant used.

Then Monsieur Lahiffe noticed Roland in the crowd and decided a challenge was in order, for a bit of fun. Nino's father and his dueled in a spectacular display of speed and skill, neither giving ground as they played for the roaring mob that crowded the lei tai before Durendal sliced through the ties of Monsieur Lahiffe's armor and Nino's father conceded the bout. Jaune joined the mob in the applause, and watched with amusement as a drunk leaped onto the lei tai platform and challenged the "Lord Rolly" in a drunken slur before Roland could get off the platform.

After the drunk was humiliated before the crowd with the cutting of his belt and the loss of his pants before getting kicked off the lei tai, Roland leaped off and took Jaune home, much to the youngster's disappointment. It was really early and he hadn't gotten to do all the much but lose a football game, get schooled in Gateway, and watch three bouts on the lei tai, the last of which was more a comedy than a fight.

But he was home before tea, as promised, and missed out on watching the fireworks from the fields as all the others would. Instead, he was treated to instructions on wrestling from his mother while the other fanned herself while watching. Then Bianca, Violet, Sienna and Shani sparred for a little while before dinner.

The combination of the twins was deadly as always. Shani's blades were coated with super-heat as she focused her strength through the elemental fire she favored, while Sienna's icy smears on the ground made footing difficult and dodging tricky with improper footing. Violet had little issue with that as her heels lit up with lightning, simply dancing over the ice as she used mid-air leaps to overcome Sienna's trap before wrapping Shani in electric daggertails. As the twin was tangled in the tails, unable to break free as the jolts paralyzed her muscles, Sienna took the advantage to strike Violet out of the air with her spadroon.

As Violet was flung out of the circle and eliminated by ring out, Bianca struck Sienna and overwhelmed her sister's speed with superior reach and defense before Shani managed to recover and sent a bolt of fire at the two. Sienna simply danced out of the way before conjuring a shield of ice to protect her from the splash of flame while Bianca simply stomped the ground and displayed a slab of earth to shield her directly. Shani wasn't expecting the eldest sister to then smash the slab towards her, and while the tigress' daughter managed to slash the rock to dust with her paired sabers, she wasn't able to defend against the rapid lunge of Bianca's spear the followed in the rock's shadows.

While Shani was sent tumbling out of the ring, Bianca flung her spear at the still recovering Sienna who deflected with her spadroon. Sienna sent a wave of ice at Bianca in retaliation but Bianca rolled underneath the the spread of shards and closed the distance to recover her spear. Said spear then destroyed Sienna's footing and toppled her to the ground where Bianca held her at her mercy. All told, the four-way duel was over in a manner of minutes as they had no desire to ruin the training ground by going all-out.

Then after the mayhem that was dinner at a table of twelve - the family cat, Toulouse, had imperiously elected to grace the others with his presence that evening - Jaune retired for the night. As darkness fell, he tuned out the clamor that accompanied the fireworks which lit up the night in the distance. Oh, and the growls and howls that sounded from the woods every Calibration night as the beasts had celebrations of their own.

And was that an explosion at the chateau's gate? Oh well, must be nothing important.

-Drunk Spider Party-

Roland Arc knew something was wrong the moment one of the talismans he wore blazed to life in the middle of the night. First night of Calibration, and already there was trouble. Grumbling, he noted it was the talisman tied to the Chateau's wards against malevolent energies and evils. That wasn't new - the Grimm tried to break through on occasion whenever tensions ran high in the house. Usually the ones that were too stupid to learn to avoid the Chateau like a geomantic explosion.

But the sheer hum of energy coming from the talisman worried Roland as he roused his wives. The lack of physical strain on the other ward talisman meant that whatever had triggered the alarm wasn't attempting to cross the boundaries, but it's presence was still worrisome.

"Trouble," was all he needed to explain as they woke, and readied their own weapons.

Leaving his plate be in favor of quickly taking the ever-loyal Durendal in hand, Roland strode forward, bare feet crunching over the front lawn's grass to the gates where the wards began. Aude and Kareena stood by as they made sure the children were still in bed while the fireworks exploded in the skies above.

But all of a sudden there was an explosion just beyond the gates just as Roland neared them to see what lay beyond that threatened his home. The walls shook and the warrior braced himself for battle with whatever dared test his wards and walls. His wives bristled at the threshold, ready to defend their home should whatever was at the gate slip past their beloved.

Quickly, Roland made a leaping feat to reach the top of the Chateau walls and see what damage the explosion had on the stone exterior. He needed to know what thought to threaten his home.

He nearly fell off the wall in shock for there was nothing there but the ruined husk of a nightmarish monster, fading into nothingness. It must have been two meters tall at the shoulder, with digitigrade legs and four arms, it's torso sheathed in an insectile carapace that shone pearlescent despite the lack of light. Dragonfly wings hung in tatters from it's back, mantis claws on the spindly lower arms in pieces, it's shell cracked on the back as it's head had five red eyes that were now dull. The blades that sprouted from its forearms were shattered and a spike of what appeared to be a spear made of pure shadow dissolved through the gaping hole in its armored carapace.

It was certainly not a Grimm but the fading corpse of a dead demon, disintegrating under some power Roland could not name. Immediately he searched for the cause of it's demise and the explosive death, but found only darkness lurking at the edges of the walls, the path clear, trees and shrubs casting long shadows that could have hidden all manner of ill meaning creatures.

Muttering a prayer, Roland held Durendal aloft as the blade gathered his Aura, gleaming jade steel shining like a torch as the light of Roland's soul touched the blade and infused it with greater power. As it built to intensity, Roland gave a shout and let the light fly with a mighty slash, arcing the sheer concentration of Aura radiating off Durendal's gleaming edge through the darkness before the walls.

The front of the chateau lit up with light as the gleaming slash traveled through the air, but Roland could see no hidden assailants lurking in the shadows. Whatever had destroyed the demon was gone, leaving Roland to not only wonder why a demon had been drawn to his home, but also what had destroyed it so quickly and brutally.

As the aura-slash dissipated when Roland rescinded his killing edge, the shadows quickly returned to darken the night, hiding from the flashes of light bursting in the skies above from the Calibration celebrations in town. Snarling, the warrior turned back and leaped to his wives, unable to explain what he had saw. He merely bade them forget what happened that night and return to bed.

It was simply another strange event of Calibration. They would watch their children closely the next few days, and make sure all was well.

-Drunk Spider Party-

Jaune woke to a day of boredom. His parents had clearly had no sleep, but this was not an uncommon occurrence when both his mothers were home with his father. Though they did seem a little stressed out, and Jaune's attempts to join his friends in town for the celebrations that evening were even more vehemently refused.

So Jaune minded himself to pouting while Bianca and Violet supervised the five younger sisters in the games that were played while they wore their pretty dresses and the beautiful masks they had been gifted as they had all the fun in town, his mothers keeping careful watch under masks of their own. Jaune kept himself busy with reading more old books and learning about the wonders of proper irrigation and the way people apparently used to do things before they had technology to help them.

To be honest, Jaune didn't understand half of what it was referencing because the author apparently took many of its assumptions for granted or as common knowledge, but Jaune managed to piece together enough of the lessons and instructions and noted that the farms that the Arc family personally owned and were tended by Orleanian farmers followed quite a many of the principles described within. Granted, much of them were adapted to allow for the use of modern farming technology acquired from Lutetia, but the underlying concepts and principles of planting and nurturing the crops were virtually identical to the methods described in the books.

Not that the manual describing various flora and fauna on the continent of Anima wasn't fascinating either. Jaune had had no idea people in and around Mistral used to have problems with foraging wild roots to eat - apparently there were a few that were especially difficult for people to consume. The weird thing was Jaune was almost sure he'd seen those same plants ground up in the labels on his mother's spice rack in the kitchen.

A quick check told him, yes, there were things on his mother's spice rack that the books he was reading told him were deadly poisons. But their antidotes were also other poisons found on the spice rack, which confused Jaune to no end. Eventually he found the section on herbal remedies and cures that described how there were many poisonous plants that were countered or neutralized by other poisonous plants. They typically grew near each other, so if you ate the wrong root or flower, you could find a tuber or leaf nearby that might be able to counter it before you started convulsing or something.

This was explained using a reference to an untranslatable section of philosophy involving balance in all things, but seemed like utter nonsense - many of these herbs were listed without antidotes in the modern references found in the family library, but the old books claimed that other poisons could be used to generate antidotes. But to do so required careful understanding of these herbs and toxins and their assorted properties.

So clearly Jaune's mother knew what she was doing when she cooked because his sisters never touched that spice rack. It wasn't like she was intentionally poisoning the family with every meal she cooked or anything, right? That would be ridiculous. His mother was an excellent cook, and her cooking never made him sick unless it was from eating too much and getting a tummy ache.

Of course, it was probably better to study up on the flora of eastern Sanus which was far more relevant to Jaune, but a lot of things were the same across the continents. Jaune did have a fun time looking at all the flowers though, even if there were tons of sticky-notes throughout the book because the names didn't translate well from the old languages.

He tried not to pout too much or sulk noticeably when his sisters staggered inside after exhausting themselves with the games and stalls in town. Jaune failed, and Violet tried to cheer him up with the classic bucket-over-the-door prank, but that just devolved into Jaune trying to prank her back.

That inevitably led to all the other siblings getting wrapped up in the mess by attempting to brain each other with pillows. Then their mothers decided to join in and got really into it which forced the eight siblings to give them a wide berth as the two women attempted to kill each other with throw pillows and fluffy cushions.

The evening after that was rather uneventful as Roland merely laughed at everyone, given they were absolutely horrendous messes at dinner. Toulouse had even flicked his tail in disapproval at the messy hair and ruined dresses, but no one paid Toulouse' opinion much mind.

Jaune would later learn the next morning that the ruins of Genabaum had been the site of a Grimm attack. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt and the monsters had been quickly slain. Nino's dad would be resting off a sprain the next few days though, on account of badly executed narrow dodge away from a Nevermore's talons that twisted his ankle. But the ruins would continue to be safe when the archaeologists and historians returned to their studies of the ancient monuments and relics of the timeworn city after Calibration end. The scientists and historical researchers were too busy having fun in town, and Chloe's father was making a killing with business at the inn. In the meanwhile, the huntsmen would keep the area safe, as they always did.

The following day was quieter usual - the family prayed then relaxed in the small family library and in their father's study as they read stories; children catching up on whatever homework they hadn't finished. Most people usually spent this day recovering from the rush of the previous two, but the Arc's had moderated themselves and Jaune personally found himself with far too much energy to spend.

But today no one would bother any of the others in their reading - it was a tradition of sorts, his mother explained - so Jaune took the advantage to study up on dancing through history and pick up a few dances from the pictures in the old manuscripts. It was rather surprising when he had the inspiration to compare some of them to martial arts scrolls and noticed there were several parallels to be drawn from the two. One of the most blatant dances torn straight from what looked like a combat manual was called the "Samurai Drop", much to Jaune's confusion.

The combative arts could be enhanced by practice in more aesthetic and cultural arts as the warrior's breadth was widened and deepened, and vice versa. Not to mention he was almost certain he could see the hints of the first of the Seven Celestial Steps footwork in one of the dance manuscripts he had pulled from his father's study. Obviously someone in the past had gone to great lengths to conceal many warrior techniques in more artistic and non-combative forms. Like the Samurai Drop which seemed to be an unarmed style hidden within a raver's dance style.

Plus, tomorrow the siblings would once again compete on the dance floor and Jaune wanted an edge. This insight explained his sisters' formidability on the dance floor with their dance-combat techniques, and Jaune began planning his counters. He had dodged them before on instinct, now he could figure out how to counterattack!

So the following morning when the Seven Deadly Sisters attempted to eliminate Jaune from the competition, Jaune managed to hold his ground and fight back. There was absolutely nothing the sisters could do to push Jaune out of the competition as he simply danced around them and dragged them into his personal flow to the point that they almost seemed like his backup dancers than his competitors. It was mind-boggling to the sisters - he'd barely practiced these last few months, so how was he able to make such progress?

Perhaps it was the result of the Pell training? Certainly, Jaune's endurance had improved by leaps and bounds since he'd begun training, but this was certainly fearsome! Especially as he began pulling out dancing techniques the sisters had never seen before, managing these skills and flourishes with practiced precision.

Then he unconsciously began to pull on his Aura to enhance his motions and refine his steps, and suddenly it seemed as if a God of Dance had descended upon the Chateau's grounds. The competition was over - none of the seven had the heart to compete with their brother anyways. They ended up competing for second best, but no one felt sore when Violet managed to claim that prize.

So instead they crafted better poetry and painted with far better skill as they spent the rest of their day in artistic pursuits. Their mother Aude's voice rang through the heavens as the siblings learned many new tunes on the multitude of instruments the family had acquired over the years. Aude played the large stringed instruments like the guqin, the sitar and veena. Bianca played the guitar and the drums, while Violet was good at tabla, and the twins like woodwinds in equal measure. Azure was excellent with the piano and the guitar, as was Indigo who also liked using drum sets as well. Olivia was skilled with the violin and cello, but her flute was sublime. Jaune just tried to pick up all of them while his mother nurtured his singing: so long as he wasn't improvising his voice was rather good.

"The great condor already said that," Jaune muttered when reminded of that.

"What was that, Jaune?"

"Nothing, Mom."

Meanwhile, their other mother, Kareena, aided their father in crafting sculptures of various animals and figures of legend to pass the time. After dinner, the siblings' parents disappeared to their chambers, and the youngsters avoided that wing of the house like the plague. Instead they played games and styled each other's hair for fun before they stopped Violet from sneaking out to party some more and ended up nodding off in the lounge.

Jaune ended up with a rather tasteful Lutetian braid, though his sisters lamented his hair was still not long enough to really get creative with. "I'll grow it out later," he promised, though knew that would be far in the future - long hair was a hinderance at the Pell, and Jaune really didn't want his father to upgrade from rocks to acorns because he thought Jaune was slacking off by letting his hair grow. Roland's rocks were hard and fast, but those acorns were like bullets and could ricochet unpredictably!

The next day was spent praying at the small shrine in the chateau to the old gods as they celebrated their ancestors and their mothers recounted stories of their legends. Then they minded the gardens because they hadn't done so in a while and it was important to make sure the plants were tended to before winter set in. Afterwards the family retired to the libraries and study for reading once more, and Jaune busied himself with some comic-books and fantasy novels when his parents weren't looking.

They toasted to the end of another Calibration at dinner before going to bed, and then it was all over, and it was soon be winter once more. Jaune couldn't help but wonder what would happen to his training through the cold months as the snow made it difficult to be outdoors for too long without getting sick. His parents seemed worried about something, but Jaune trusted that whatever it was was an adult thing he had no reason to concern himself with. All Jaune had to be concerned with was school, having fun with friends, training, and becoming better in all ways so he'd be a hero when he grew older. It wouldn't do to rush into becoming a hero, naturally.

Jaune was content to be patient, and do epic things when he was big and strong, and no one would treat him less for being so young and small.

-Drunk Spider Party-

 _ **A/N:**_ _Not entirely happy with this chapter myself, sad to say. Well, the ending of it, at least, which I maybe, kinda, sorta rushed to write because I got busy last week and have been trying to at least be weekly so I wanted to get this out ASAP. I'm half tempted to rewrite it later and add details, maybe another thousand words or so to flesh out Calibration as it's celebrated in Orleans and how the Arc family celebrates it personally some more. How the rest of Remnant views Calibration is something I may reference later, because each continent has different views on the international holiday, much like they do about a bunch of other stuff like Faunus rights and interpretations of the Oumist Texts (cue Peleps Deled's rant about "interpretations")._

 _Note, I will personally be impressed if anyone is able to figure out why the demon was there and who killed it before I inevitably reveal that in the future. I welcome all guesses._

 _Also, this way I can get to the first large time skip of a little under a year - before Bianca and Violet compete as second-years in the Vytal Festival held in Vale (for those of you keeping track, 8 years prior to RWBY canon). Jaune may or may not be expecting to attend, but, naturally, there are shenanigans afoot._

 _Writing this chapter also reminds me how much Betas are probably strange entities that exist in-and-out of Fate whose job is to keep Pattern Spiders on track and deal with outrageous authors and their silly habits. Thus, they happen to possess mastery of Sidereal MA and likely custom charms like "Diligent Scribe's Comments" and "Elusive Unrecruitable Prana" and "Thousand Quill Corrections". Capturing such an entity continues to baffle me. :P_


	8. Chapter 8: Welcome to Anima

Chapter 8: Welcome to Anima

The first clue Jaune had when he woke up that something was very wrong was that he woke up on his back and his feet didn't have anything on them. This meant that he was not wearing his onesie as his favored nightwear had footies on the ends of the pant-legs to keep his toes warm and toasty. Jaune didn't remember putting it on, but then again, he didn't remember falling asleep either.

Jaune's second clue was the fact that he instinctively knew that it was well past sunrise, and Jaune almost never overslept. He usually got up before the sun rose as it was, so waking up sometime late in the morning was strange for Jaune.

That there were birds chirping in the canopy above him because his pillow had somehow ended up being a tree root was perhaps the third and most obvious clue he wasn't at home.

Oh, and there was some weight pressing on his lap that he didn't recognize as human.

So Jaune opened his eyes and slowly propped himself up on his elbows and came face to face with some manner of armor-cat snuggling atop his thighs that was starting to wake up. It was about the same size as a large kitten, covered in some manner of armor shell that blended with it's fur coat of dappled camouflage. Frankly, it seemed to be trying to look adorable, but the fact that even this little cat had sharp fangs gave Jaune some shock. He could recognize the feel of pads on the feline's paws that marked sheathed claws. The creature wasn't native of the forests around Orleans.

 _Now that I think about it, I don't recall this forest either… well, better find Dad's note then. There's always been a note._

Idly, Jaune scratched under it's chin as he realized that if it was a kitten, then surely its siblings and/or mother were nearby. That theory was confirmed when he heard a low growl behind him as the kitten gave a purr in response.

Oh, look, it was mama-armor-cat! All full grown and the size of a horse, with armor that had rough spines and teeth like knives, claws like daggers, and a frightening coloration of greens, browns and pale oranges that Jaune knew only aided it in stalking through this … jungle? It was certainly rather thick and lush with life, but perhaps "dense forest" would be more apt. Jaune wasn't really quite sure he could recognize the difference on sight - just that it was somewhat warm for autumn, and he most certainly wasn't around Vale like he'd been hoping.

He really should have been panicking, but for some reason, he was just annoyed that he couldn't for the life of him remember how his father had knocked him out. Was it something he ate?

Ah, wait, no. He could remember now. It was something Jaune drank.

"Well, hello there," Jaune smiled, knowing that fear was likely not a good thing to show to a predator. "I'll be out of your fur in a moment, just need to figure out where Dad left the note."

Mama-armor-cat wasn't too convinced, especially with how playful her cub had started to be by snuggling up on the stranger's stomach and miaou-ing cutely. Protective of her cub, she took a threatening step forward, bearing her teeth with a growl. It was obvious she wasn't going to just let Jaune walk around as a possible threat to her cub.

Jaune sighed, "Right, wrong language. And I have no idea what dialect you speak, so hopefully general 'cat' works."

Clearing his throat, Jaune began to negotiate with the angry mama-armor-cat.

-Welcome to Anima-

Once the armor-cats had moved away - mother still rather annoyed with Jaune for reasons Jaune was sure only made sense to the feline - Jaune stood up and took stock of his situation. It wouldn't do to panic because he still didn't know how he got here, but this had happened before, and Jaune knew it had happened to his sisters.

"Still not sure if this is considered a normal training method," he muttered to himself as he was wearing cotton pants of a dark brown and a long, beige-and-white robe-like shirt that was short in the sleeves but long in length worn over a light, thin undershirt. A few long sashes were wrapped around his waist like a belt. His feet had no socks on them, but there was a pair of cloth slippers tucked in the front of his shirt that he quickly wore so he didn't have to deal with rocks on the ground. His hair was tied back with a strip of linen, and the torc around his neck was unadorned. Jaune didn't even know why he still had the torc - sure he was wearing it before, but now it didn't go with his outfit. Maybe Dad couldn't get it off him without waking him?

Jaune didn't have his father's instructions on him, so he'd have to find them quickly if he wanted to finish this test and be able to make it to Vale in time for the festival. Oh, and his sisters' tournament, but mostly the fun and games at the festival - he'd never been to Vale before.

"And I'll need a stick."

It was a lost cause looking for his father or mothers to bail him out before he finished the training exercise. Father usually just left the instructions and disappeared. His moms either weren't informed of what he was actually doing or simply refused to intervene unless he was legitimately dying. All Jaune knew was his dad slept on the couch for a few days whenever Jaune got back from one of these exercises

A glint in the corner of his eye revealed his prey. A slender tube hung from a rope tied to the hilt of a dagger that had been driven into the trunk of a mighty tree. A pair of arcs scratched into the bark over the dagger confirmed that it was his father's instructions for him. Interesting. Last time he'd been given some leather reinforced clothes, a small sword, a buckler and a lunchbox then told to survive on his own for a weekend in the mountains.

 _First time I killed something,_ Jaune remembered before shaking that thought away. No. Not the time to think about it. He had to complete the exercise.

This seemed to be similar to the mountain training, only now he just had these clothes and that small blade stuck in the tree.

"I'll have to be careful and hope this is quick," Jaune said to no one as he unwound the tube from the knife. The knife in the tree was rather plain - no adornments or anything, just a blade with a handle of wood capped with a hilt and pommel of iron. The dagger was single edged with a clip-point tip, which made it good for cutting and slicing. He wrenched the blade free and stuck it in his sash - his only weapon and tool now. Then he scampered up a nearby tree to make sure he didn't run into any wild animals or Grimm and examined the tube.

It was made out of bamboo and the cap on one end was tightly sealed with a similar material. It seemed airtight but the other end was loose and could be popped off. There was a short cord affixed to the loose ends that kept the cap from getting lost.

Jaune made short work of that and removed the papers kept within. He looped the loose string to his waist so he could carry the tube later. But first the papers.

The first was several lines of sheet music for an untitled song. It seemed like he'd need a flute or ocarina or a similar woodwind to play it. Something light, clear and capable of hitting those very high notes.

The second was covered in gibberish and nonsense Jaune had no course how to make sense out of. There was a drawing of a sword in the top right corner, though. A code perhaps?

The third was a diagram for Dust crystal placement and the rudimentary magic to determine elemental affinity. Jaune found this thoroughly useless: he'd already done this on his ninth birthday and was deeply disappointed he had no affinities for any of the Dust types. His father had seemed disappointed, but none of his parents seemed particularly surprised. Jaune wasn't sure he felt about that, but it was heart-breaking when he learned from his sisters what that meant.

The fourth was blank but smelled funny. Secret ink? Likely, but Jaune didn't have the means to test it.

The fifth was a letter. Finally, now he was getting somewhere. Especially since it was in his father's hand and addressed to Jaune.

It read:

 _Cher Jaune,_

 _By the time you read this, I will already be in another province, dealing with some matters of great importance. I trust you shall be honest and honorable in completing this exercise and passing the test I am giving you. Failure is unacceptable - if you cannot finish this task or suffer major injuries in the process, or fail to uphold any of the rules, there will be serious punishments._

 _A few things to be aware of. Firstly, you are not on Sanus right now - you're somewhere on Anima, and the nearest settlement is a few days away. I'm not telling you where exactly. You wo_

Jaune paused, then re-read that last sentence, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. Not only had his father dropped him off in the middle of a dense forest that was home to scary armor-cats, but had done this on an entirely different continent. That was… _how_? Last Jaune remembered, he was with his father in Lutetia to catch an airbus to Vale for the Festival.

Now he was nowhere _near_ that, but on the eastern continent.

"Better be some good news somewhere in here…."

 _A few things to be aware of. Firstly, you are not on Sanus right now - you're somewhere on Anima, and the nearest settlement is a few days away. I'm not telling you where exactly. You won't have the luxury of home-turf advantage, so stay strong._

 _Secondly, for the duration of this exercise, you are not "Jaune Luna Arc", and should be very careful that no one you may encounter learns your identity. Crouching tigers and hidden dragons, son. If you break this rule, you fail. Come up with a false name to go by._

Jaune frowned at that. He understood the sentiment behind the phrase about tigers and dragons, but it Jaune hadn't thought he would ever need to apply it to himself… He was proud of his name and his father. Not being Jaune, son of the Arc family, was almost unthinkable. It was his heritage and home, so why must he hide that?

"But so be it," Jaune resigned himself to the instruction, and debated its merit. Even if he could not use his given name or his family name, at least he would be filial in keeping them secret.

 _Thirdly, be wary of strangers and beasts, and don't fall for any tricks. Don't pick fights, and do not be stupid and fight Grimm. My advice is to run away from conflict where possible - the goal of this exercise is not to see how many Grimm you can kill, but to survive and finish the task._

 _Fourthly, don't take too long. If you're not done and home by Calibration, your mothers will be very upset, and you can kiss being a Huntsman goodbye._

 _Fifthly, be careful and avoid getting into trouble. No reason to give your mothers and sisters reason to worry more than they do. If you get into a fight,_ _Run Away_ _. You need to finish this quickly or you'll miss out on all the fun of the festival! So hurry up!_

All in all, Jaune felt these instructions were reasonable enough. Constant bouts against his father had reinforced the fact that Jaune's training was woefully incomplete, and that he was years from being his father's match.

 _Your task is simple, Jaune - find your uncle Oliver. He should be in the city of Windpath right now, but it's your job to find him and give him one of the four other pages I've given you. I leave it to you to figure out which page to give, and to get it to him before he leaves for Sanus._

 _This is your first chance to walk the path of the Xia, Jaune. But remember that your job is to simply take the page to your uncle. So be careful and don't get into trouble. Now hurry up, you're wasting time._

 _Love,_

 _Your Father_

 _PS If you miss their tourney matches, your sisters will be angry. So do hurry up and find your uncle Oliver, Jaune!_

Jaune took a moment to stare at that postnote before folding up the letter and stuffing it in his shirt along with the others. He could have rolled them up in the bamboo tube again, but it was probably better to keep them directly on his person. Less chance of losing them.

"Well, first I need to figure out where I am," Jaune reasoned. Basic geography reminded him that the free city of Windpath was somewhere east of the Mistral capital, so it was just a matter of figuring out if he was in northern Anima or Southern Anima. But to do that, he'd need to find a map or landmark. That meant he had to find higher ground or people.

Jaune glanced at the thick trunk of a nearby tree and judged it's height. "That'll do." With the practice of a playful child, Jaune scampered up the trunk and made his way into the arboreal branches. From there it was a matter of finding the right footholds and testing the strength of the tree's arms to make sure they would support him as he climbed higher and higher.

" _Hey, watch it! Privacy please!"_

" _Get lost!"_

A burst of motion and flurry of feathers from a pair of irate avians whose privacy he had disturbed forced him to move to another tree and make several apologies. Soon enough he mustered the courage to skip to another tree and climb even higher until he was able to peer through the canopy. The angry cries of the birds still rang in his ears, but Jaune decided to ignore them. He'd already apologized, and moved away, they would forget about him soon enough.

"No coast line," Jaune noted as he scanned the horizon. The sun above him was high in the sky, but something told Jaune that it was still morning, rather than afternoon. It was like his own internal timepiece - he just knew when the sun was in the sky and what time of day it was. It was a talent that came to him easily, much like the ease with which inner energy breathing was simple once he figured out how his meridians worked. Or rather, how to overcharge them and amplify his strength. How to make his body light as a feather, yet still fight like a lion.

Or rather, a little cub, as mother would remind him. He still wasn't his sisters' match.

Not yet.

"Mountains are too far, just trees, and that looks like it might be a river over there," Jaune began to note the terrain and commit it to memory. He'd have to go over everything over and over in his head before he got it all, but with the lack of tools to make a map, memory would have to serve.

"Smoke in the distance," he blinked as he saw the faint distortion in the skies above the horizon. Either that meant a camp, or a village. There wasn't much for it to be anything more, but the presence of smoke in the distance meant fire. And given the clouds looked calm, that meant people.

He looked up and checked the sky again. He'd need to find someplace to stay today, because that seemed more like a day's walk and traveling by night was a terrible idea in unknown territory. Grimm might be about, or other hungry beasts. Most of the wild animals left Jaune be, but hunger made most animals think of the young boy as a meal.

Grimm just wanted to kill him. They were monsters and demons, and that was what they did. Jaune had no sympathy or desire to make friends with creatures like that.

Jaune nodded to himself. A plan was formed - he'd find water and forage for food then make his way towards where the fire was.

"But first I'll need a stick."

Jaune clambered down the tree and dropped the last meter with a huff. His feet let a soft whiff of air as he landed like a feather. Thank goodness he'd finally been taught rudimentary lightfoot. He'd need to find a fallen branch big and straight enough for him to work with. The knife his father had left was a poor weapon of choice.

As he searched for a branch, Jaune picked some berries that he recognized as edible and popped them in his mouth. Not very juicy, but had an interesting tang to them. He picked several more and kept them in his robe-shirt for later.

As he searched and foraged on his way towards the gap in trees he believed to be a river, Jaune thought back to the last he could remember before he had been unceremoniously abandoned in the middle of these dense wilderness.

"Stupid soda… stupid grapes…"

-Welcome to Anima-

"Dude, Vale is so _wild!_ I mean, the festival hasn't actually started yet, but there's so much to do and tons of people! I mean, it's gonna be like Calibration came early, mec, and no Church in the mornings."

"Man, Nino, I'm so jealous. But I'm going to be there soon too! Where are you and your folks staying? Maybe we can meet up and hang out in Vale before the tournaments start once I get there," Jaune grinned as his friend gushed from the other side of the terminal.

Jaune was sitting at the communal CCT terminal network room at the port of Lutetia. Rows of terminals for video and audio calls to anywhere in the world as well as general access to the world's communication network. At the moment, his father was sitting at the booth next to him talking with his mothers in Vale who had gone ahead with Jaune's older sisters. Bianca and Violet had been staying at Beacon Academy for a while now - Violet having gone with her team from Haven Academy for the Festival - and the twins were stuck in combat school, but Azure, Indigo and Olivia had jumped at the chance to leave Orleans early to attend the festival.

Jaune on the other hand had been guilt-tripped into staying home with Roland for a little under a week as the family head couldn't pull himself away from work in time. He'd gotten calls at the home terminal from his sisters every day, but now he was actually on his way to Vale himself.

But since Orleans had no port of it's own beyond the small wharf for boats on the river, Roland had ridden with Jaune to Lutetia. Lutetia was an old city and was once capital of a large kingdom that had conquered much of the continent of Sanus, establishing an ancient empire. Of course, the capital moved around frequently, which was why there were old palaces and chateaus almost everywhere in the Gallic territories of Sanus that dated back to the period, and housed a wide variety of nobility from which Jaune and his sisters were descended.

Though, the empire eventually fell for reasons Jaune hadn't gotten to yet in history, and a century of two later, others sprang up in it's wake, until eventually it was the kingdom of Vale whose rulers became the liege lords for much of Eastern Sanus. So when the Great War broke out, and ended with the Vytal Accords and the signing of all sorts of treaties Jaune couldn't remember the names to, it was Vale that held the most power in the area. This lead to it becoming one of the four Kingdoms - the former seats of power for the nations that had sworn half the world to their banners and drew the entire world into their conflict.

People still thought it was a miracle that the world hadn't fallen to the Grimm in the wake of that catastrophe. But people persisted, nations rose and fell and transformed at time went on. Life moved forward, and humans and faunus, people, found a way. Even if much of history was lost to the dusts of time and the claws of the Grimm, that seemed a constant.

So the signing of the Vytal Accords was a massive victory for the people of Remnant, and one that the Four Kingdoms celebrated lavishly every other year. Now it was being held in Vale during the autumn season, and his sisters were eligible to compete in the Four Kingdom Vytal Festival Huntsman Tournament - a tourney for huntsman and huntresses studying at the Four Kingdom Alliance Huntsman Academies of Atlas, Haven, Shade and Beacon.

But history was never important in comparison to cheering his sisters on as they kicked butt and took names. Or the other way around, it was all good fun, as well as the fact that Jaune was excited to finally be visiting someplace other than the Gallic territories. He'd lived in Orleans as long as he could remember, and Lutetia was a place his family visited rather often. Lutetia was a taste of what Jaune knew he could expect from Vale, in some senses - the art and entertainment of Lutetia and it's busy streets were a marvel to the boy, its culture and style inimitable, but he could only dream of actually walking the streets of Vale, much like he'd seen on the television screens of various shows and events broadcast around the world.

So he had ridden with his father in a carriage to Lutetia where they took a short tour of the city to kill time. The messenger tower was a fascinating monument, apparently built for a fair in ancient times, and the father and son ate crepes along the river side as they passed the Cathedral. They decided to pose for a portrait rather than dropping in on one of his father's friends uninvited - their tickets weren't for a train out of the Gare like his sisters had apparently used to travel to Vale, but for a late-night airbus, so the two had time.

It felt almost nostalgic for Jaune, for some reason, to have his portrait made with his father's proud hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't quite place why. Part of him felt like he should be having a circlet on his brow and sword at his hip as he posed in front of the river, the cathedral behind them in the distance.

As the sun descended, they had made their way to Port De Gaulle for their airbus and were killing time in the terminal booths until they had to board, which is where Jaune was now speaking with Nino.

"Totally, mec, if my folks let us. I hear the arcades here in Vale are epic, it'd be so much fun. Hey, your sister's at Beacon - think she can get us a tour of the place?"

Jaune shrugged. "No idea, I'll ask when we get there. Our airbus boards in an hour, so we should be in Vale tomorrow morning."

"Cool. My parents and I are staying at the Hotel Charing Oak on Billard's."

"My dad'll call yours if we're free, mec."

"Later Jaune."

"See ya, Nino," Jaune waved back to his friend before the two disconnected, the screen returning to the generic entry display for Port de Gaulle's CCT terminals.

"You thirsty Jaune?"

Jaune turned to his father who was leaning out of the booth on his left. Jaune smiled as he noted his father hoisted his luggage over one shoulder, Durendal still in its sheath at Roland's hip. The sword drew attention - only huntsmen were allowed to carry weapons openly in a place like Port de Gaulle. It was both a security risk, but also a necessity for huntsmen to have their armaments close at hand in case of trouble like aerial Grimm.

Of course, it would have to be put away while on board, but the sheer presence of the tall man with a sword on his hip was undeniable and drew looks of admiration and wariness from all around them. Jaune felt strange about that attention, but his father had told him to ignore it. Jaune was still trying, but it was difficult to just ignore the eyes that were drawn to the pair. He just took refuge in his father's presence, and hoped that would make it better.

"Not really."

"Hmn. We might not get a chance to get something before we're in the air Jaune... " Roland pressed.

It took a moment, but Jaune caved. "Alright then. Do they have juice?"

"I'll check."

Roland moved off and Jaune entertained himself with surfing the web, fingers flickering over the keyboard, the physical keys more responsive to his touch than the standard holographic interface. He was lucky they had a physical-board interface at the Port, because they weren't very popular at all. Jaune suspected it was because the holo-interface was more convenient and advanced and thus lent to the added ambiance of Port de Gaulle as an aero-port for the modern age.

Oooh, someone was talking about what the next X-Ray and Vav arc would be. Jaune wondered if it would involve the Mad King again.

He was thusly distracted with his father put a can down on the short bench by the keyboard. It was aluminum and colored in purple, declaring _People Like Grapes_.

"Grape soda okay?" his father asked. Jaune shrugged.

"Sure."

He continued to sip at the soda while surfing the web until his father noted they should move to their gate and prepare for boarding.

Seeing the mass of people and families that gathered at the gate for the airbus was the last thing Jaune could remember before it all got fuzzy. He could have sworn that the gate was for the flight to Vale. But things were just hazy and he must have nodded off on an empty seat in the terminal.

And then his father somehow managed to get him halfway across the world to another continent and dump him in the middle of the woods with no person around for miles.

"Stupid Grapes."

-Welcome to Anima-

Jaune had found a stick, and carved the excess bark off it, trimming it into a short staff suitable for a child his height. It was pliable, but sturdy and didn't shake too much when he whipped it around to test its flexibility. It could support much of his weight when he leaned on it, and double as a whacking stick if he needed to.

It would do.

Jaune named the rudimentary staff… Stick.

He wasn't feeling very imaginative today.

"It's good that you're on my side, Stick. Mostly because I made you, but that's not important! You may not be much of a talker, but you're a great listener." Jaune said to his walking stick as he made the most of the daylight to traverse these unknown wilds.

"I can just tell this is will be the beginning of a beautiful partnership!"

Jaune paused then looked at Stick.

"Okay, that was rude, but you're not wrong."

"..."

"Well, that's too bad, you have to listen to me. I'm your boss."

Jaune nodded to himself, ignored Stick's protests and made his way southeast towards that river he believed he'd spotted. After hours of hiking, he'd avoided a few more predators and gotten some directions from some of the local critters to make it to the river.

It was rather swiftly moving and would be troublesome to cross, but Jaune knew he had little other choice. He could faintly see fish under the surface, swimming swiftly with the current. Idly he stuck Stick into the water to test its speed and strength. Yup, strong.

He knelt and scooped water in his hands to taste. The cool liquid dripped past his lips and dribbled a little down his chin and on his neck, but Jaune had gotten enough of a taste to know it was freshwater, and that he was somewhat inland. That wasn't good news, but at least it gave him drinkable water, and he could maybe find another branch to turn into a rudimentary fishing spear.

The sun was beginning to dip past the horizon, and Jaune figured that he wouldn't be much use if he was wet from crossing the river when night fell. So he found a spot near a narrow bend to make camp and set up a fire pit. With a pair of dry sticks and a good deal of effort, a small fire was started on the twigs and leaves he'd gathered. Then he took off his top, slippers, and rolled up his pant legs before making a rough bident out of a slender stick. Then he waded into the river and planted himself like a rock so he wouldn't get swept away. It took him an hour before he managed to catch one, but mostly because the darned fish were slippery. Then he remembered a trick he'd been taught in the Lost Woods and started to anticipate where the fish would swim to with the current in order to pierce them before the fish could react. It took some practice, but he eventually got the hang of it and caught several. He didn't bother trying to identify them, they were just food now.

Then he just used the dagger to clean them and speared them on sticks he held over the fire to roast. Once he figured they were done, he prayed for the meal, then ate, and made faces at the horrendous taste - he may not have cooked them enough. But he'd caught them and they were his, so by the end of it, Jaune was satisfied with having succeeded in this task.

Then he clothed himself again and drew up to the trunk of a tree and made sure Stick and the fishing spear were close by as he tended to the small fire. As the sun finally fell beyond the sky, he said his prayers and did his exercises, then went back to keeping the fire going, careful not to let it get out of hand or make too much smoke. Then he focused his breathing to train his control and clear his thoughts to meditate. Eventually he drifted to sleep, and the fire died in the night whilst the young boy dreamed.

-Welcome to Anima-

 _ **A/N:**_ _Woot! Time-skip of a little under a year. It's in the swing of autumn at the moment, and the Vytal Festival begins soon in Vale. But Jaune's not invited! What adventures will the young Solar have on his trek to Windpath to meet his maternal uncle, Oliver de Gennes, wielder of the blade Hauteclere? Whose fates shall cross paths with the young hero's?_


	9. Chapter 9: Meeting of the Laws

Chapter 9: Meeting of the Laws

He was a tall man, no one could deny that. He stood head and shoulders over most men, and it was a trait that served him well. Despite how uncivilized it sounded, there were many times when it simply paid to be able to lean over someone, look them right in the eye, and let your physical presence simply awe them.

Some of his rivals would claim he growled like an animal as he did so. But the man - for he was a man, no matter how much those racists wished to deny them that right - knew he was perfectly self-controlled. It was not in his nature to crush a person's skull because they spilled something on his lap and were rude enough to demand an apology from him for their own mistakes.

This was why everyone believed he would be an excellent Chieftain of the Isle - he could make anyone but the mightiest of warriors or the most witless of fools quail before his sheer presence. It was an ability that was almost required in order to keep the former tribes in check. Comparatively, he wasn't a fool, and competency in politics and leadership were vital traits for chiefs; not just strength.

Despite this, he found himself rather well suited to the duties of a politician. Contrary to his efforts to remain just another member of the civil rights group his forefathers had helped found with the other leaders of their people, he was genuinely skilled in the art of debate and had absolutely no tolerance for bullshit. The fact that his Faunus features weren't so obvious were of immense benefit, as they allowed him to better ease himself in the debate arena. His physical presence, on the other hand, was something not so easily overlooked, and had on occasion forced him to make assurance that no, he would not throw someone out the third-story window if he was angered during negotiations.

He had suffered as a teenager when he left home to study abroad. Institutions welcomed him with open arms, touting their acceptance of Faunus and their pleasure to have someone of such noble standing among the Faunus attend their schools. He found that things weren't so in practice, and that regulations to ensure equality were either minimal or simply ignored in many parts of the world.

So he ended up becoming a civil rights activist, and met the woman who would always stand by him. An acquaintance took a chance on him and pushed him to try his hand at being more than another activist but help lead. He found he was very good at it, and found himself fighting to make a difference. And people actually followed him.

His career in politics and civil rights might have filled a few books in their details. He wasn't a very boastful man, but he did his best, and despite his size and physique, made himself known for leading peaceful protests and rallies around the world.

A sit-down protest in Hispaniola to challenge local businesses who ousted Faunus from their doors, and restaurants that refused to serve them alongside their human customers. Rallies in Gauteng to overturn laws that separated Faunus and human neighborhoods and had segregated facilities for different species. Argued in courts for the implementation of better legislature to raise the standard of education for all communities regardless of communities' coffers. Equal employment opportunities in Vale to aid unemployed Faunus. Speeches to convince the masses that Faunus deserved equal pay for equal work in the Rhineland regions of Solitas. Strikes against Dust companies that exploited their underpaid and maltreated Faunus employees and all mine workers. Boycotts of racist organizations and businesses around the world. Messages of unity between Humanity and Faunus.

It was an ongoing process, but he was helping to make the dreams of his forefathers a reality. He was strong and firm, and his attempt to cause long-term change may have been laughed at by his contemporaries, but he felt it worth it in the end.

For his daughter to live in a world of equality regardless of species. Where their kin weren't persecuted for the differences in their genetics and physiology.

Sure, he could have done this by crushing skulls and transforming the Faunus into legions of discontent rebels, but that wasn't his way. By the Moon, he knew his kind were angry enough and could be riled to arms as they had in the past. But that wasn't his way.

His weapons were words, and his armor was justice.

His name was Ghira Belladonna, the current High Leader of the White Fang, and as next in line to become Chieftain of Menagerie, he was proud to be a Faunus. He was devout and honorable. He believed himself a good husband, and a kind father.

And his friends knew him as -

"Baggy!"

Ghira turned on the stool at the tavern bar. It was a Faunus-owned establishment in the small town of Luchou; a town that had a sizable Faunus community with which he had met to discuss politics, policy and various other topics of note. It was simply another stop on his way to Vale where he hoped to spread the message of equality and fair treatment of Faunus in the wake of the Vytal Festival festivities.

Part of Ghira wished that the message hadn't been such, but that was what was needed of the White Fang, as the world continued to mistreat Faunus despite their efforts to forward unity and camaraderie between species in the wake of the Revolution.

Still, with his brothers and sisters of the White Fang, the campaign retinue he was forced to travel with, it seemed strange that someone would call him _that_ when he was in a town like Luchou.

So he turned to find a man who was being accosted by some of his lieutenants attempting to approach. The man was blond and well built, and the sword at his hip was visible for all to see. Ghira supposed the two young lads meant well in trying to keep someone so openly armed from meeting a Faunus so crucial of a figure to their platform. Or perhaps it was because he was human, and there were precious few humans actually within the White Fang - most were content to simply be 'sympathizers'. But sadly Ghira actually knew the man.

"I hate that nickname," he said curtly.

The blond only grinned. "But it's so catchy!"

There was a momentary staring contest between the two - a test of machismo some would say - as they attempted to turn one another into mush with gimlet glares.

Then Ghira grinned and laughed. "What brings you to this neck of the woods, Huntsman?"

"Heard you were around, and had to have a chat," the blond returned the laugh and tried to shoulder past the two Faunus.

"But sir! He's - "

"An old friend, of sorts. His wife is a close friend of my sister," Ghira cut off their protests and stood as the blond huntsman approached. He took a measure of satisfaction that for all the huntsman's prowess, Ghira was still the burlier and taller, so the human had to look up to meet his eyes. That smirk was infuriating, on the other hand, and he could see how Kareena had fallen for it.

He didn't think highly of some of the Vyaghra's familial customs, but he knew that particular clan of Tigers had many holdings and were some of the best warriors the Faunus had, and their actions in the Revolution had been the foundation for many victories. That this man had somehow enraptured the heart of one of the Tiger's Daughters was… impressive to say the least.

Especially because he was human.

To be honest, the whole affair had been a massive source of gossip about two decades ago, and caused a massive uproar in the Faunus community. There was a great deal of drama that Ghira was sad to say he had somehow gotten involved with on account of his career.

There might have been a book or two based on the story, only edited to ramp up the tension and histrionics, while making sure all names were changed to prevent anyone from putting together the real identities of the principle cast (not that this stopped dedicated fans from piecing together clues) and might have been made the inspiration of a popular television drama. Strike that, an exceedingly popular television drama, especially considering the star cast used to play the characters. To be honest, Ghira was glad his own love life hadn't been so… hectic. On the other hand, he worried what would happen if it was made known that the man before him was the source of inspiration for the entire tale. Most of his female staff were avid fans of the show.

"Baggy."

"Row."

The two glared at each other for another moment of before they raised their arms as one and embraced each other as brothers. They laughed as they separated and moved to a quiet corner where Ghira waved off his hanger-ons for some privacy.

"How are you, brother?" Ghira inquired.

"Well as one could hope. I'm blessed with good health, as is my family," was Roland's answer.

Ghira nodded. "Thank the Gods for that."

"Hear hear."

"I hear your daughter will be competing in the Vytal Festival Tournament."

"Yes, the both of them," Roland nodded, a small smile on his face.

Ghira tilted his head teasingly. "Ah, yes, the romantic drama of Orlando the Brave and his star crossed lovers, battling demons and villains, torn between his duty and his heart. Fifty-two episodes of soap opera drama and shenanigans detailing the misadventures of a romantic warrior in times of strife."

The grin vanished from Roland's face, much to Ghira's amusement.

"You know my wife loves that drama - I believe it's still getting reruns on television in Menagerie, and other parts of Remnant. They're thinking of making a re-boot to the series, too, last I heard."

"Oi, keep that down, will you! Lord of Light, my daughters found out about that last spring, and have been teasing me about it since. Tiger Lily and Alda just join in in mocking me about the things they got wrong and how they made me out to be a reckless fool."

"But you were a reckless fool."

Roland opened his mouth to protest, but paused and then closed his mouth saying nothing. Ghira just laughed.

"Oh, don't judge. I hear you're writing a book now. Who knows, mister High Leader, maybe in another decade or so, they'll be making television shows about your life too, and twisting all the facts to appeal to housewives in the Kingdoms and Isles or something," retorted the huntsman.

Ghira rolled his eyes. "So, your daughters then. You must be proud."

"As a lion," Roland smiled. "Can't pick favorites, of course, but I believe they'll make it to the finals."

"Confident, Row? Or are you biased?" Ghira smirked at the potential word-trap.

"They've worked hard, and they're my daughters. I watched them grow as children, saw them embark on their paths, then sent them off to blossom at the Academies. I've taught them what I can, but…" Roland looked out the window for a moment. "I can only be sure they'll do what they can to make me and their mothers proud. To make our ancestors proud."

Ghira thumped the table. "Well said."

"Speaking of daughters, how is your own... Blake, was it?" asked Roland.

Ghira nodded. "Nine years old, and far too bright a child, she's got a caring heart like Kali's. Just as fierce too, but don't let anyone know I said that."

Roland grinned conspiratorially. "Your secret is safe with me."

The two laughed, feeling the comfortable camaraderie of proud fathers. There was a moment of silence as Ghira pondered what exactly Roland wanted to really speak about, and was debating asking about it directly when the man beat him to it.

The smiles had vanished, and this sad air came to the man before Ghira, as if a sudden weight on his shoulders reappeared to remind him of something. What it was that the huntsman had come here to actually say.

"So, I must confess I have some… awkward news." The look on the huntsman's face didn't suit him in Ghira's opinion. It was awkward, conflicted and a little ashamed.

Ghira was naturally put on edge by this sudden shift.

"How so?" he probed.

"I'm sad to say that the I... might have, well, unintentionally misled your family and the Vyaghra clan some years ago. Led you, and them, to believe something that isn't, well, wholly true."

The Faunus' back straightened at that confession.

"And that would be…?" Ghira trailed off, suddenly worried about the tone in Roland's voice.

"That I have a son."

The Faunus leader frowned. So the man had a son. This wasn't entirely news to him. He'd heard from his sister that Kareena had had a boy after so many girls. But, last he'd been informed, the boy had health issues that prevented him from being of any real consequence. The tigers were all rather hush-hush about the affair, and Ghira had only found out because it related to…

Oh dear.

"And he's somehow become strong enough to be in a position to inherit, well…"

Ghira sucked in a gasp through grit teeth, eyes going wide. A multitude of emotions ran through him. His hands tightened into fists at the rage of being lied to. His mind whirled at the repercussions that meant for the Tigers and their practices, as well as their relation to the Belladonna's. Fear as he realized what that meant for the families.

For his family.

"By the Mother!" He almost rose from his seat in fury.

"Baggy, now please calm down - " Roland half-rose to meet him, hands over Ghira's fists.

"Calm down!? I've been lied to about… about _that_!" The Faunus might have been spitting fury if not for the angry growl in his tone. He wasn't prone to violence, but oh did he feel like testing himself now. "How can you ask me to calm down?"

"Because, it didn't use to be a lie! My son wasn't in a position to inherit, but now… by the grace of the gods, he's recovered, and I'm happy he has, but it's made liars of our family, and that's… something I can't just ignore anymore."

"How long?"

"A few months since Kareena and I were sure… I'm sorry, but please, _calm down_ , you're making a scene."

That snapped Ghira out of his anger quickly. Eyes darting, he noticed the tension that had rapidly escalated in the common space, the staring in the two men's' directions. The careful set of his staff and the way the security personnel he had in place had tonfa drawn and ready to approach in case he called for them. There were a few civilians unaffiliated with the White Fang who were murmuring amongst themselves, the whispers already beginning to spread.

Damn it.

Ghira drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, held it, and let it out slowly past his teeth. Flexing his fingers he took a seat once more and composed himself. Roland drew away from Ghira's hands and leaned back in his own seat. The Faunus' eyes were closed, regulating his breathing to calm down. He hadn't lost his temper in a long time, and it wouldn't do to break that habit.

Once he was relatively settled, Ghira turned a gimlet glare on Roland, attempting to set the man on fire with his eyes or bore a hole through the huntsman's skull with a glare. Sadly, Roland was infuriatingly immune to his intimidation - or simply didn't notice.

"So… I'll have to tell Kali the… _news_ ," he puzzled over the word he wished to use. News was good. News was neutral.

"I hope you weren't angry because of our forebearers' decisions and wishes."

Ghira tilted his head back to stare at the grains in the ceiling. He sighed, "No, not at them. I just… wish I hadn't been put in such a position. And I'm happy, at least, that you're still the good man I knew those years ago, just… angry with myself."

Roland frowned, tilting his head to ask for an explanation.

"I reacted poorly, I apologize. Truly, this should be happy news, glad to be heard, but the mood was ruined when you started by apologizing, and my immediate thought was colored thus."

"I am deeply sorry. The deception wasn't intentional."

Ghira waved the apology away. "Water under the bridge… I supposed we'll need drinks to celebrate what should be joyous tidings."

Roland gave the other man a small smile. "Indeed."

Ghira paused for a moment, considering something he hadn't thought to ask before. "The boy… is he a tiger, or…"

"He's human," was Roland's answer. "I think."

Ghira raised an eyebrow at that. "You think?"

Roland blinked, before realizing what he had said. His lips hardened in a firm line, angry with himself at the slip-up. "To be honest, I'm not sure whose he is. Neither of them remember, complications during the delivery, and I wasn't exactly there in time to witness everything, so…"

Ghira's other eyebrow rose to join its brother as the Faunus blinked. "But he seems human?"

"Yes. I doubt he really cares about the difference - he loves his sisters equally, and I've never known him to feel prejudice." There was a wistful smile on Roland's face.

"Hmn," Ghira hummed thoughtfully. Well, it was a mess politically, no matter what the boy was, but he might be able to twist this to the Fang's platform if he played his cards right. But still, they were more important things to be done. Like catching up with an old friend. "So how about drinks then."

"Sounds splendid."

At Ghira's request, a pair of drinks were served by a wide-eyed waitress with fox ears. She quickly hurried away from the solemn mood, which threatened to overtake her in the weight of the human and Faunus' combined presences.

Roland raised his glass to Ghira. "To Family, and our Children."

"Hear, hear."

The glasses clinked before the two burly men threw back their heads and drained the mugs. With a pair thumps the slammed them back on the table and grinned at each other.

"Now, let's say we get some more drinks and talk like we used to when we younger, eh?" Roland had a rougish grin somewhere on his face.

Ghira laughed at the playful jab. "Speak for yourself, I'm still younger than you. How about you, old man?"

"Old? Now you've done it. This calls for more drinks so I can wheedle you for stories to tell my wives."

"Then I suppose I'll have to loosen your tongue for more about that son you've got."

The two shared a grin, and Ghira felt younger and more foolish again. Good thing his flight wasn't till tomorrow afternoon - there wasn't anything pressing that required his attention for the evening.

Kali would understand, surely. She would probably be thrilled.

He hoped.

For all that he could reduce men to quivering puddles of fear, no one struck such terror in the High Leader of the White Fang's heart than his loving wife.

Roland was much the same.

-Meeting of the Laws-

Jaune woke up half-expecting to be surrounded by snakes attending to him, or something equally ridiculous. Instead he was pleasantly surprised that his slumber had been relatively undisturbed. The fire had died down to embers and ash in the night, leaving Jaune with the onerous task of cleaning it all up so it didn't cause trouble later.

Quickly, Jaune busied himself with morning prayers and the few exercises he believed most useful to him that day, like the Sun salutations and other stretches. It was always good to be nice and limber!

He sadly didn't have the time for breakfast if he wanted to get to where he'd seen smoke anytime soon. It wasn't there anymore, which meant that whatever had caused it wasn't a settlement. But it hopefully meant he might be able to find tracks of whoever had set up camp there and follow their trail.

But first, he had to cross that river.

Jaune glanced down at himself. Getting his clothes wet was… not really an option. He didn't have anything else to change into, and he didn't want to be walking around naked while his garments dried.

That and the papers could get wet.

"Now that I think about it," Jaune murmured as he pulled out the sheets of paper he'd received from his father. In particular the letter.

"If I do run into people, I shouldn't have this on me. It has my name on it, and Dad said no one should know it… unless they already know me, but then what's the point?" He glanced between the river and the smothered remains of his fire. "I probably should have burned it last night."

Jaune frowned at that, then looked at the paper again. Making up his mind, he tore the letter into short strips and kept them with the others - the remains would be added to the kindling of the next fire he made.

First he walked up and down the bank of the river, trying to gauge the distance. Once he was certain he found the narrowest stretch of the river within a stone's throw distance of his camp from the prior night (even if it was only narrowed by a meter or so), Jaune began to untie the sash-belt and strip.

Fully naked, Jaune shivered once before bundling all his clothes together so they protected the papers and berries he'd collected, along with the bamboo tube, and made sure it was secure in the over-robe he'd been wearing. Then he tested the knots to make sure nothing slipped out and hefted it in his hands. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was large for Jaune's hands and somewhat lumpy.

It would have to do.

"And a one, and a two, and away we go!" Jaune sang playfully as he spun the bundle around and around, muscle tensing and building with energy as he let his Aura help, before releasing it into the air.

The bundle soared high in a long arc, but Jaune had forgotten to account for the bundle's lack of aerodynamics, as it threatened to fall short.

Thinking quickly, Jaune seized Stick in hand, and muttered an apology for being so rough as he hefted it over his shoulder. With a skip forward, Jaune quickly focused his Aura into his legs and arm, letting it add to his meager strength and give him that edge he needed. It flowed through Stick, and he could feel it harmonizing with his will, as his father had described things reinforced with Aura would do.

A shout left his lips as he loosed Stick, the makeshift staff shooting forward like a bolt from a ballistae, flying straight and true as it struck the bundle. A cry of triumph came from Jaune as Stick actually hit his target and managed to push the bundle off it's ill-planned course towards the water and land on the dry riverbank beyond. Stick seemed to be caught in a bush.

Quickly, Jaune dipped his toe into the water and was surprised to find that the cold wasn't as bad as he thought. Diving in, he fought with the river's current to stay on track, having to struggle against the flow of the water to keep from being drifted off course.

Not too long afterwards, Jaune used the outer robe to dry his body before getting changed again, glad that he wasn't going to get sick for being soaked to the bone while in the woods.

Then he made sure the papers and berries were safely tucked away as he picked a few fruit on a nearby tree. The fruit had a thick violet skin covered in spines, but Jaune found their innards to be rather succulent. Once that was done, Jaune filled the bamboo tube with water and tied it to his waist - he didn't know if he'd find water that easily later.

Once that was settled, Jaune set off again to figure where exactly he was.

Two hours later, he was beset by Grimm.

-Meeting of the Laws-

Honestly, he'd been a little preoccupied with talking to Stick when it attacked. Jaune had been ranting to Stick about how he still didn't understand why Chloe always insulted him yet was angry whenever he refused to hang out with her. Indigo said it was a girl thing, but Jaune just didn't get it. His sisters only did weird things like that occasionally, but not as consistently as Chloe.

Stick was of the mind that gender was a weird concept. This was understandable since Stick was… well, a stick. Stick wasn't a he, nor a she, but an it.

Thus, Stick's advice was to acquire a ten-foot pole (that wasn't Stick, thank you), and use it to keep Chloe at bay.

Now that was an excellent idea, but he didn't think the teachers at school would let him walk around with a ten-foot pole to keep a girl in his class away from him.

Maybe he could get a restraining order, whatever that was. Violet had joked about that once.

Stick, likewise, didn't know what a restraining order was, but was all for figuring it out by trying to get one anyways.

It was about this time that a rustling above him in the canopy alerted him to movement as a shadow dropped over his head, plummeting straight to him.

Also, it was whooping and hollering, and Jaune just reacted on instinct to slap Stick into both hands and whirl around with a mighty swing.

With a shout, Stick smashed into the shadow and knocked it off it's crash course with Jaune's head as the boy stumbled back from the sheer weight he'd flung aside. Eyes wide and sense alive, Jaune felt his body thrum with energy as he reacted to the monster that had just attacked him.

And monster it was, for the black skin and fur, glowing red eyes, small white plates across it's body like armor, swinging tail tipped with a white claw and white bone mask over the top of it's face and the glistening fangs spitting fury as it screeched with a wide maw could belong to nothing else.

It was a Grimm. And it kind of looked like a demonic monkey, if Jaune was being totally honest, what with the way it's legs and arms moved, as well as the swinging tail and big round ears on the side of its mask. It was a little shorter than Jaune himself, but that was with it crouched over as it was on the ground, it's shoulders hunched as it coiled to pounce. The armor and presence of sharp teeth and a whipping tail-blade were obviously a natural advantage.

Jaune took a step back and away from the Grimm, unsure of what it's proper classification was, but knowing that his father had been very clear about what to do if he ran into Grimm.

Run Away.

The Grimm monkey didn't give him that chance.

It was fast, Jaune gave it that. But he'd seen it tense and screech as it pounced, and reacted as he'd been trained. A quick step to the side off the assault-line while the Grimm was in the air as Stick shot forward like a spear, whirling to catch it in the neck or the side.

Surprisingly, it worked, until Jaune noticed that Stick had only hit a plate of it's armor and skidded off, but not before the Grimm attempted to grab onto the offending weapon. Jaune surged with strength, blood pumping, and twisted, jerking Stick around in a circle on the end as the Grimm lost it's grip and lunged forward.

Jaune relied on superior footwork, memories surging through him as he knew the best way to recover defensive advantage. He ducked under the Grimm's swipes, dancing away and finding the optimal distance, Stick twirling around his back. A motion out of the corner of his eye had Jaune bring Stick up in a heavy block as the Grimm's tail had darted over it's shoulder to attack with the claws on it's end. The claws raked against Stick, but with Jaune's aura coursing through his body and the pole, Stick didn't seem to be troubled in the slightest.

Of course, the force of the blow made Jaune's feet slide back as it surged forward, but his guard did not break. His stance held firm.

"Roots," Jaune grinned.

Stick spun, disengaging from the tail before dropping to dart between the Grimm's legs as Jaune destroyed it's stance and toppled it to the ground. He narrowly dodged the swipe of it's heavy paw as it went down while Jaune planted his foot into the Grimm's mask and kicked it down and away while he dodged it's attempts at dragging Jaune down with it..

Howling with fury, the Grimm scrambled to all fours as it bounded towards Jaune who had already turned to flee, but darted at the last second to leap onto the trunk of a nearby tree, bolting up to the canopy.

Jaune paled as he ran through the densely forested wilderness, ignoring the screeching of the birds above as they made to escape the Grimm's vicinity, the critters scampering underfoot for their own boltholes and burrows. His eyes scanned the trees around him as he ran, heart thumping and body coursing with power as he tried to escape pursuit.

But the monkey Grimm was faster and incredibly agile as it brachiated through the canopy. If it were a normal monkey, Jaune might have been impressed enough to watch and gather pointers from its movements, but this was a monster, and Jaune had no inclination to ask it for lessons.

Especially not when it kept hooting and hollering and it's claw-tail attempted to take his head off as it swung through the air. Jaune ducked and tried hitting it with Stick, but it ducked behind a tree trunk and out of the way.

Jaune didn't bother giving chase as he used the extra time to gain some ground.

But the uneven ground and twisting nature of the forest made it difficult to navigate quickly, forcing Jaune to take to the trees himself.

Jaune was glad his father had taught him basic Lightfoot. Surprisingly, it was a lot like what he'd apparently done to get away from Shine-Eye all those months ago. Energy surged through his body as it focused around his legs and arms, lightening his body while at the same time allowing him absurd leaping power that would allow him to leap through the trees with ease.

Jaune leaped from trunk to trunk before he got into the canopy and started running across the branches in an attempt to out-pace the Grimm. No such luck, as they danced through the trees, the Grimm spinning around branches and tumbling through the air as it's long arms allowed it to brachiate while Jaune attempted to swat it out of the air with Stick. Stick was sadly blocked by it's legs and Jaune was forced to deflect the darting claw-tail when the Grimm managed to get close enough to let the natural weapon whip about. Every time he pulled back a springy branch to whip back and knock into the Grimm, making the environment his weapon, the monster would either roll with the blow and spin around another tree trunk or simply tumble around the whipping limb.

It was too fast! Too agile!

The whirling flurry of paws and claw-tail were met with Stick's firm defense and counters, punishing force throwing the Grimm back and away with his strikes, sweeps, and deflections. Keenly aware of the dangers Jaune noted that the tail was really, really stretchy on account of it somehow managing to shoot multiple times its actual length in an attempt to latch onto Jaune and lacerate him.

With that in mind, Jaune realized he'd been fighting for far too long, and that the only way to get away from this Grimm was with the monster somehow broken or disabled. Preferably dead.

 _Now there's an idea..._

Steeling himself, Jaune allowed himself to speed up, their cat-and-mouse game in the trees ramping up in intensity as the monkey Grimm put forth more effort into trying to kill the young boy that eluded him. It was after ducking past a particularly large tree's trunk that Jaune's plan sprung into motion.

The Grimm's claw-tail came flying just as he gave it an opening to do so, which Jaune promptly blocked rather than deflected. The claw attempted to latch on and steal Stick away, but Jaune let it and moved with the motion, circling Stick to wrap the pole in the tail. Now it couldn't let go of Stick to easily. Then Jaune jumped around the trunk and swung down as the Grimm attempted to pull either Jaune closer or at least disarm him of Stick.

Instead, the Grimm found itself being pulled towards the tree trunk, slamming into it with a bodily thump. Quickly, Jaune pulled up on Stick, feet planting on the trunk as he threaded through the branches to stretch out the Grimm and pin it to the tree. The Grimm howled with rage, black spittle flying from its toothy maw.

Having had enough of it's noise, Jaune darted forward past it's swiping paws and smashed Stick onto the crown of it's skull. and wrapped the Grimm's tail around it's own neck.

With the tail still wrapped around Stick like a knot, Jaune leaped off the tree and let gravity pull him and the tail down.

The tail acted like a noose, and the Grimm howled as it choked. It's paws scratched at the tail on it's throat attempting to get loose before scrabbling for any manner of purchase, but it was trapped. Jaune managed to get his feet on the tree, Aura surging through it as he ran down the tree and pulled with stick as he used it's own resilient and stretchy tail to strangle the monster.

There was a resounding crack through the air as Jaune roared with effort when the Grimm's neck finally snapped from tightening of the noose, the Grimm's howls and screams dying with it.

For a moment, Jaune hung there, still suspended by the tree from Stick which was tied up with the tail, before Jaune let it unwind and dropped to the ground below. He landed with a soft whiff of air as he used his Aura to cushion his steps, before he started running again, heart still thumping as he tried to get away from where the Grimm died. It was far too unnerving for the young boy to be around the fading corpse of the monster he had just killed.

He kept running in the direction he knew would take him to where there had been smoke. At the pace he was running at, it didn't take long for Jaune to find where the fire had been.

Apparently it was the side of an existing trail, and the people had made camp in a clearing along the edge of a small pool. Jaune knew because they hadn't cleaned up the fire pit… and the fact that he could still smell the smoky scent of their campfire.

That wasn't the only thing he could smell.

Jaune's face turned green as his eyes widened in horror. He turned away in order to empty his stomach into a nearby bush. The stomach acid burned on the way up as he retched and heaved.

Scavengers and carrion eaters had already taken everything that remained, but Jaune could still see the dried blood that had soaked the ground, and the gear strewn across the clearing and floating in the pool.

There wasn't going to be anyone here to help him.

-Meeting of the Laws-

 _ **A/N:**_ _And we meet another canon RWBY character, who will help set the stage for future plot developments. I personally believe that Remnant probably uses real people as the basis for a lot of their soap-operas, and thought it'd be hilarious if someone basically did research on Roland's misadventures and friend/relationships, tweaked the details and names, and dialed up the drama to make a popular series of novels and television drama. This is most certainly becoming a plot detail later during the Beacon Story Arcs._

 _Still, plot is being forwarded, and things happen that will drive Jaune forward and get him wrapped up in trouble. A bit of an unfortunate note to end on, but one that seemed like the best stopping point for the time being. Hope everyone enjoyed Jaune fighting the Monkey Grimm (whose proper name I haven't come up with yet, so if anyone wants to chime in and pitch me suggestions, feel free to speak up), though he's liable to get into far crazier fights later. Part of the territory that comes with being a huntsman/Exalt._


	10. Chapter 10: Tracking a Horse

Chapter 10: Tracking a Horse

Jaune was no stranger to horror. He'd seen a fair few of those from the unfortunate souls his father had dragged out of the Forest of Carnutes. Some of them were innocents who got lost and found themselves trapped in the illusions. Others were criminals, skeptical of the stories and seeking a hiding place from the world. None were Huntsmen, capable of mustering a defense against the Forest's magics and perversions, and had perished.

But at least there were still bodies to be recovered. Jaune saw none here.

He dumped fresh soil into their fire-pit, making sure the fire was smothered for good. Just in case. It was difficult sticking around as there was blood splattered across the ground, and scraps of the victims' belongings strewn about the clearing. But he had to check if there was anything left.

Anything for Jaune to bury and learn who had died today.

Anything for Jaune to use to survive.

He ended up needing to take a sip of the water from the pool. Thankfully, it wasn't tainted, but some of the supplies were still floating on the surface. Jaune washed the bile from his throat and reeled from the experience. Then he leaned out with Stick and pulled the supplies in. No food, but there was a canteen, a torn bag, and the remains of a scroll inside. It was broken, and just wrappers remained that had been torn into by the beasts. Some biscuits remained, but were hard as rocks, and just as appetizing.

Looking about the clearing afford Jaune better luck. The remains of what might have been a tent lay between the woods and the fire pit, torn to shreds and unusable to Jaune. He pulled out the stakes and found that they were bent - but still usable. He found a satchel he could sling across his chest, and a pair of wool socks, as well as a set of towels. That was good, as was the sole bedroll he found. The other two were torn up, so Jaune knew how many had been here. There was a knife hilt and broken fragments of metal by the base of a tree. He also found a torn of stirrup by the trail. A horse?

There was still some undamaged ammunition scattered on the ground, but no firearm to use them - useless to Jaune as a weapon, but perhaps the Burn Dust would help with setting fires later.

The one true victory might have been finding the chipped sword in a bush and a battered wallet. Sadly, the latter didn't have any form of identification in it: merely a good deal of lien, a flat multi-tool, and some strangely familiar plastic square wrappers with… Jaune blushed and shoved the wallet in his appropriated satchel. One thing was for certain - whoever that wallet had belonged to was an adult, and most likely a man.

He busied himself with testing the sword he'd found. It was a short-sword to be honest, but in Jaune's smaller hands, it was only an awkwardly shaped blade. The chips were barely noticeable, though it was clear that any care it had experienced wasn't nearly enough by his family's standards. Jaune improvised a baldric out of the remains of the tent.

Once that was done, Jaune checked whether there was anything else that could be done, and sighed as he realized that he might as well pay his respects.

Taking out the knife, he carved out a slice of wood from a tree and etched a sigil of rest and pleading their souls move on from the world. He stuck the prayer into the ground by the pool, and kneeled to mutter his prayers, hoping they moved on quickly and departed for the eternal realms of Heaven.

Then he started searching for tracks. Grimm were in the area, so Jaune would have to be careful. But there had been that stirrup, so Jaune had to wonder about that horse. There weren't any maps to be found in the remains of the campsite, nor sign of directions to the nearest settlement. Jaune could only suspect the horse might have had it. Had the horse gotten away, or had the Grimm slain it?

He hoped the latter. It was possible that one of these travellers had gotten away on it, or at least that the horse had escaped with some of the supplies in it's saddle-bags - those were missing from the area, but he could now spot the torn up clods of dirt from the horse's hooves.

He scanned the trail and grinned when he realized that the horse had clearly bolted at a gallop when the Grimm neared. The tracks were clear - hoofbeats spaced out but there was the sign of claws and heavy footfalls signifying the Grimm had given chase.

Jaune tracked the horse and the Grimm for several, uncounted leagues. After seeing the state of the camp, he was constantly keeping himself aware of any Grimm in the area. A league or two into his trek he noticed the claw marks of Beowolves in the trees. His senses were keen, and he realized they were rather fresh - there were Beowolves not too far off. It was short work to find them, as they seemed to be heading in his direction, along the trails as if searching for potential prey.

In an instant, he had gotten up into the trees; still and silent like a statue. His father had told him that the creatures of Grimm could sense your fear. Smell it from a hundred meters. So Jaune wasn't scared. He had killed that monkey Grimm. Maybe the Beowolves were the same?

There were a lot of them though…

Jaune held still in the trees until they had moved off, and heaved a sigh of relief before moving on as well.

Eventually the horse appeared to have outrun the Grimm. Or they just got sick of the chase and let it go. Jaune couldn't say for sure, the tracks for the monsters just seemed to grow less prevalent as the horse continued, until it was just the horse.

"What kind of horse is this, it's ridiculous," Jaune had muttered after hours of tracking, noting how much the horse must have done to avoid the creatures of Grimm. This pace was absurd! The stamina to evade the Grimm for so long was impressive.

After another half a league, the horse went off the trail to the north. The bushes on the other side of the trail had been disturbed, so likely something big had spooked it. A quick examination of the scratches on nearby trees and the points on the soft paw-print led Jaune to believe it was one of those armor-cats he had run into the other day. Had it attacked the horse?

Jaune hoped not.

Darting into the wilderness once more, Jaune cut his way through the underbrush.

"What do you think, Stick? The horse get away?"

"..."

"Yeah, me too."

"..."

"Well, who knows. I need to find the horse first, then I can wonder about whether someone survived that mess."

"..."

"Can't give up hope, Stick."

Pushing his way past long hanging branches and navigating the rough terrain, Jaune marveled at the fact that he hadn't run into the horse yet. Surely it would have twisted an ankle or hurt it's leg on such terrain! Unless it had someone slowed to a careful trot? Jaune wasn't sure, but it seemed odd.

The whole day seemed odd, now that he thought about it. Oh, what Jaune wouldn't give to be in Vale right now with his sisters. At least they'd be pleasant company.

No, wait, they'd probably start teasing him for something and drag him along for shopping.

At least Nino would be pleasant company. Yes, that was it, Jaune nodded to himself.

"Not that you're not pleasant company, Stick, but it'd be nice if you could actually walk by yourself, you know?"

"..."

"No, no! I'm not insulting you. Just… making a note or a, what's the word, _observation_."

Jaune laughed it off as he walked with Stick. The terrain was sloping downwards as he walked, and Jaune found it increasingly worrisome that the horse was still not found. He couldn't claim to be an expert horseman, but what he knew of equestrians told him that the horse had most certainly been crippled if it tried to navigate this dense forest and uneven, rocky ground at anything more than a careful trot.

Rocks skittered under his feet, eyes widening as he caught himself with Stick and a free hand flying to grab a nearby branch. The ground was loose here. Pushing aside a bough, he saw why - a ravine.

Carefully stepping where the ground was stable, Jaune peered into the ravine. It was a long ways down, a trench through the wilderness with wild bushes and trees growing out of it's sides, dangling branches and roots off the rock-wall. The soil was loose at the top and easy to slip, but a small, quick moving river snaked through the bottom of the ravine, carrying away the excess silt.

A glint of metal hung from the side of the ravine on the other end. Breathing deeply, Jaune called upon the power of his Aura, letting it flow through his body. His senses heightened, sharpening to an impossible degree. The pattern of Aura flowed with his breathing, and the world slowed as Jaune took it all in, senses unparalleled in acuity.

His touch was like a spider's on the web, feeling every vibration. The air brushed against his skin and he knew it's paths, and all that breathed. He could hear ever sway of the trees, each rustle of the bushes, the cries of the birds and the scampering of beasts, the rush of the water and the song of the sky. He could see the beating of flies wings and the dried blood on the other side of the ravine, the horse's tack torn off and caught on a heavy bough of a bush growing out of the ravine's slope.

Well, that answered that.

Jaune sighed, but something niggled at his thoughts. He could see the tack, so the horse must have galloped at speed off the trail after it was spooked. It broke through the underbrush and woods, the trail he had followed. But that low-hanging bough had obscured it's vision, and since it was already injuring itself in it's flight, it slipped on the loose soil, and leaped into the ravine.

From there, the horse would have fallen and hit the other side of the ravine. Slipping without a proper foothold, the horse fell through the bushes, the tack finally breaking off until it fell into the water. It would have struggled, but against the rush of the water, might have been carried away. Else, it died of it's wounds, and the carcass floated downstream.

No matter. Jaune wouldn't find it now, and he didn't have any reason to. The tack was still there…

But what about saddlebags?

"Something must have taken them," he reasoned. "If they existed at all."

Jaune checked his thoughts. So long as he traveled in any direction, he would either end up on a coast, or near some recognizable landmark. Anima was well settled, and he would have to end up _somewhere_ if he spun around in a circle then went straight without pausing for obstacles. Well, within a week at least.

Jaune didn't have a week, and following the ravine probably wouldn't help. Perhaps there was something on the other side?

He drew back, and found a clear path. Measuring the distance, Jaune nodded before breathing. Aura circled within him, drawn forth as power which he directed through his body, flooding his meridians with power. He was light as a feather, with the power of a tiger ready to pounce. Legs pumping, Jaune sprinted towards the edge.

And leaped.

His feet kicked the open air as Jaune soared. Gravity had no hold on him as he flew through the air before crashing into the other side of the ravine. A quick snatch at a tree root and Jaune dragged himself up over the edge and hopped from tree to tree until he was on solid ground.

Onwards Jaune walked, braving the wilderness. He negotiated a compromise with a pair of badgers whose hunt and foraging he had inadvertently interrupted with a gift of berries in exchange for directions to the nearest town, and was sad to hear that they knew of none. This wasn't unexpected - animals rarely left their own territories, and he was told that there were a few dangerous animals in the area, but they were smart enough to be wary of a fire in the dark.

Instead, they gave Jaune directions to a nearby river where he could find a spot to make camp. Jaune was rather shocked by this. Another river? The badgers couldn't rightly explain that, they just knew the two that bordered their stomping grounds. One was at the bottom of the ravine, and the other was to the north. Well, Jaune reasoned, at least he was heading in the right direction. Still, there were an awful lot of rivers in this area.

Jaune thanked the badgers for their help and set off, finding that the birds he later asked knew that people were sometimes in the area, though their presence was rare, and that no, they couldn't remember where or whence they came. Birds didn't have the best of memories for details like that, and they didn't really care.

Soon he'd come upon a river, and like the night before, make camp. Maybe he'd have better luck catching fish!

-Tracking a Horse-

"Sir, we've picked up the trail again," voiced the scruffy rogue in leathers.

Ferocious Chun stalked over to his underling and crouched as well, peering at the tracks. He noted the depressions in the trail, and nodded.

"Good. Those Grimm cost us time. Bloody pack of Beowolves. Damn them," Ferocious Chun spat on the ground as he stalked back to his horse, the bay's reins held by a younger lad in the band.

Chun held out his saber, the blade drenched in Grimm-filth that was still fading. The boy quickly brought out a cloth bolt and slid it over the slashing edge, cleaning it of the disintegrating remains. He looked the boy over. Dressed in cloths and leathers, strips of metal sewn into place as makeshift armor, it was not the perfect fit, but appropriated from a corpse three months prior. The boy had done good in the fight, but had faltered in the beginning. It was a weakness Ferocious Chun reminded himself to beat out of the boy later.

For now, they had to recover from their losses to the monsters - a few good men and women, scoundrels and thugs the lot of 'em - and pick up the trail to find the treasure. Ferocious Chun had it on good authority that they'd come this way, and it was just a matter of time before Chun was able to catch up to them and take the prize from them himself. A fortune that would make Ferocious Chun a wealthy man, and give him the easy life in a backwater town. Or give him the finances to try and claim a larger stake of territory from the clans. Either way, it was worth a lot, and Chun wanted it.

The Grimm had slowed them down, but now that they'd picked up the trail, Ferocious Chun and his band of thugs and miscreants were back on the hunt. These trails were well-known for those willing to take the risk, and Chun was among them. It was just a matter of knowing which ones were taken, and how to navigate the treacherous wilds.

Ferocious Chun slid the saber back into the sheath at his hip, absently stroking his beaded beard as he grinned in thought of the money he could make off of it. And all he needed to do was get to those three idiots first, and take it. Foot in the stirrup, Ferocious Chun hauled himself onto his horse, the boy ducking out of the way as the others who had come with horses mounted as well. The rest would have to jog and try to keep up. Ferocious Chun didn't really care - they were spare bodies to throw at the Grimm if necessary. Their exhaustion wasn't important.

"Mount and ride, boys. Follow the trail and let's get us that beautiful money-maker." he roared, to the shouts of the others in the band.

The horses set off as the minions jogged to keep up. They rode for hours, changing trails and making twists and turns as they followed the days-old tracks. Chun's trackers were skilled in following such trails, having come from foresters and trappers of nearby villages and towns. But it was slow-going as every stop brought with it the peril of assault from the beasts that prowled this sparse jungle.

Some of the boys would whine or complain about the pace and the exhaustion of having to keep up with horses as they marched. Ferocious Chun just snarled and slid the saber out of it's sheathe ten centimeters.

They shut up rather quickly at that.

In the meanwhile, he busied himself of plans of what to do with the treasure, and how he might end up using it. These were happy thoughts as they involved lots of pain and suffering for people who weren't Ferocious Chun, and a great deal of satisfaction for himself afterwards if he could get away with it. And he likely would - so long as none of his band decided to be idiots and do something to jeopardize this wonderful opportunity.

It wouldn't be until nightfall that Ferocious Chun found the camp.

He simply took one look at the scattered supplies and tatters that remained of the campsite before snarling, "Find their bodies."

The band of thugs searched for hours into the night, before coming up with nothing but some tatters of clothing and the grisly remains of a man's hand.

It wasn't what he what Ferocious Chun was looking for.

"Grimm, sir." was the explanation from one of his trackers. They noted the markings in the trees and the way everything had been torn to shreds.

"And no sign of our treasure?"

"No sir. But… we did find something odd."

Chun raised an eyebrow and stared at the man, fingers the hilt of his saber. The man quailed.

"Odd." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes sir, the camp-site appears to have fallen to Grimm and the three who had taken the prize fell to them. No sign that the Grimm got the prize, though, nor the horse."

Chun hummed. "So the prize might have escaped with the horse?"

"Yes sir, though that was not what we found most odd."

"Oh?"

"Wild animals took most of the supplies that were left after those brigands died and their bodies, but someone appears to have looted this site before we reached here."

"What?!" Ferocious Chun roared, drawing his saber in fury before leveling it at the tracker. The tracker's eyes went cross as it stared at the sharp, chopping edge hovering over his nose. "Say that again, it sounded like you just said someone was tracking the prize faster than me…"

The entire band went still as the tracker being threatened paled. "O-of c-course not, s-sir," he stammered out, shaking in his boots. "Just that someone found the campsite by accident… and decided to loot what was left of their supplies and ammunition."

Ferocious Chun frowned, squinting at the tracker before glancing about the camp site. He knew there were signs of battle all around, that was obvious, but it was true, the clearing was surprisingly clear for a former camp site. It just felt slightly off, but it hadn't been in a way that was obvious. Chun supposed it could be because it had indeed been looted and things were out of place because of that.

"Tell me, tracker Lei-sho, who might have come here before us?"

"Possibly some other brigands on these trails? We've found some footprints on the trail following the horse as it seems to have bolted during the attack. They might not know of the prize on the horse…"

Snarling, Ferocious Chun turned his attention on the entirety of his band. "And they _will_ not. Because that prize is ours! We started before dawn and follow the horse's trail, and we shall claim the treasure. And if any of these others stand in the way of that… well, to hell with them!"

A cheer went up as Ferocious Chun waved the saber in the air.

"Riches are ours, boys, for when we have that beauty in our grasp, we'll have the power to bend a nation to our will! And people to pay us for the privilege!"

They roared as Chun smiled his wicked grin. Then he set them to building camp on the remains of this old one.

The next day, Ferocious Chun ordered his men to set out and track the horse. The ones forced to walk complained under breath, but never loud enough for Ferocious Chun or his senior enforcers to hear. But their greed drove them forward.

A few hours into their trek, the second group of Beowolves arrived and assaulted them from both sides of the trail, dropping from rocky outcroppings the trail wrapped around and darting from out of the dense underbrush.

Ferocious Chun swore as he drew his sword and rallied the other thugs. Accursed monsters… they better not have taken his Prize! He'd slay every Grimm in this forest if they made him waste his time!

-Tracking a Horse-

There were times when constructing a fire was difficult. Not only did one need to find an appropriate location for the fire away from anything that would accidentally catch alight, but also on soil that had been cleared of grasses. Constructing a rudimentary fire-pit helped take care of that last one, and ringing it with stones ought to help keep the tinder inside.

Then it was just a matter of finding dry hardwood for the fuel, and some softer wood for the kindling to set the pile ablaze. Leaves and twigs could work well for kindling, but one had to be careful of smoke - Jaune remembered Shani mentioning that when she showed him how to make a fire pit on a camping trip some time ago.

Smoke wasn't always good, and Jaune didn't want to draw too much attention to his fire - most animals would steer clear of it, but who knew whether there were more Grimm in the area.

Jaune cheated by sprinkling just the tiniest amount of Burn Dust onto the kindling, then struck it with a flint he'd picked up while tracking along the trails. The Dust ignited and Jaune had a flame going much quicker than before.

He glanced towards the sky and noted that daylight was quickly fleeing past the horizon. No time to hunt or fish then. Jaune rationed what remained of his berries and figs, hoping he would have better luck foraging on the morrow.

Once he'd eaten, he did his exercises, practicing the basic forms he had been drilled in, before sitting down to pray. As the light died away, Jaune finished his prayers and set about meditating to ease his mind and cycle Aura through his body, part of a daily ritual to cultivate inner and outer strength.

In that trance, he fell asleep, to wake just before dawn.

Praying to the rising sun, Jaune then set about his morning exercises before turning to the fire. It was dying out, but after adding some more kindling to fuel the flame, poking it to ensure the wood set ablaze, the fire quickly regained its strength.

Sighing, satisfied, Jaune turned to the river and used the dagger to construct another fishing spear.

Tromping back to the river, Jaune glanced at his own reflection with dismay. He hadn't noticed before, but his clothes were really dirty and his face was covered in grime. Jaune hadn't thought to mind his appearance since there was no one around, but it occurred to him that if he _did_ run into someone, he should look _somewhat_ clean.

"Time for a bath before I catch breakfast."

"..."

"Yes, Stick, I'll wash you too."

Thankfully, the water was shallow and slow on this side of the river. Stripping out of his clothes, Jaune set them aside and waded into the water. Lacking soap, Jaune simply scrubbed his body vigorously to remove the dirt and grime that had built up the last few days. It took a while before he was satisfied, though his thoughts were distracted by the fish that kept rushing past him. Plenty more than there had been in the last river.

After washing Stick, Jaune seized the fishing-spear and set about catching his meal. A big breakfast would mean he could go a bit longer without having to eat all his berries and foraged food. They would last just that bit longer.

This time, the fishing came much easier to Jaune. The benefits of practice, Jaune supposed. After five were caught, Jaune set about cleaning and sticking them on thin sticks he stuck into the ground over the fire. While waiting for them to cook, Jaune went back to the river where he'd left his clothes, and set about washing them, clad in his under-shorts. He would let them dry by the fire till perhaps around noon before setting off again.

Idly Jaune went about his washing, playing with the water a little as he teased the fish who sought to ignore him as they swam along the currens. By the time he was done, his clothes were relatively dirt-free, though thoroughly wet.

Jaune pulled some stones together to set them upon and let them dry. Once that was taken care of, he turned to his fish, licking his lips.

There were only two fish there.

Jaune blinked, and stared at the two fish still cooking over the fire. There was something wrong with math here.

He could have sworn he'd caught five fish and set them to cook. Now there were two. Obviously, somewhere along the line, a subtraction had taken place, and Jaune was sure he hadn't done it.

He'd only been gone a half hour or so. An hour at most. Had some animal taken it?

Jaune narrowed his eyes as he stared at the holes in the ground where the sticks had been placed. Birds wouldn't have gotten so dangerously close to a fire. They'd have made some manner of commotion if they had. Jaune let Aura heighten his senses once more, and felt around the ground. No animals had been through here recently, the depressions in the earth were old and the new ones were made by Jaune himself. The feet of a human.

Jaune blinked. Could it be he wasn't alone here?

He looked around. His sharpened senses picked up nothing. Whoever it was was being very quiet and still. It was somewhat impressive, because Jaune had no idea if anyone really was in the area. Perhaps he should train that sensory-trick more often, it might get better.

Jaune waited. A minute passed and still there was nothing. Part of him wondered if it had just been a trick of the mind, but the math was obvious.

He had caught five fish and set the to cook over the fire. When he came back, there were two fish. Whoever they were, they couldn't have gotten far if they were trying to sneak around…

Jaune grinned as he had an idea.

Still in his under-shorts, Jaune seized Stick and planted the butt of the staff in the ground, the other hand cocked at his hip. He stood proudly and smirked, eyes closed as he focused on his ears, straining to hear everything.

"I know you're there!" he shouted loudly.

There was a sharp intake of breath to his left and above, up in the canopy.

"Got you," Jaune grinned as he leaped towards the sound.

"Eep!"

A shadow fell from the canopy in surprise as Jaune leapt, Stick at the ready. The fish-thief hit the ground with a thump as Jaune barreled through the bush and leveled Stick at the shadow.

The shadow groaned, on his knees as he lifted himself off the ground, rubbing his posterior before looking up and blinking in shock at the staff being pointed in it's face.

Jaune blinked in surprise as his clear blue eyes met her pretty amber orbs, framed by short dark hair. Black tufts twitched above her head and Jaune noticed something rather important.

He was actually a she.

And she was a young faunus girl.

A moment of silence passed between the two.

"Uh, hello?" Jaune tried, unsure of what to say.

The girl just shot him a withering glare, looking from Stick to Jaune.

Well, this was awkward.

-Tracking a Horse-

 _ **A/N:**_ _This one took a long time to write. The muses were not kind, and this chapter was a struggle to put into words. Mostly because I had more solid plans for what happens from next chapter onwards, and this chapter was just a means of getting to that. Ergo, the struggle of having to write this because it's necessary, but not knowing the best way to do so. This works as is, but next chapter should hopefully be better because there will actually be conversation and interaction between Jaune and the fish-thief, which is much more interesting for me._


	11. Chapter 11: A Feline Fish Thief

Chapter 11: A Feline Fish Thief

" _Uh, hello?" Jaune tried, unsure of what to say._

 _The girl just shot him a withering glare, looking from Stick to Jaune._

 _Well, this was awkward._

Jaune glanced away from the girl, taking in their surroundings. It didn't seem like there was anyone else here. And look, there were the sticks from the fish she'd taken.

The girl looked to where he was staring, and saw the small sticks. Her head whipped back at him, slowly reddening. She also seemed to be looking around for an opening to escape.

"Um, I'm not going to hurt you?"

"Is that a question?"

Jaune blinked at the sudden words. Yup, she was a girl alright. And seemed to be trying to stare at Stick and not him. He couldn't help but wonder why.

"I mean, I'm not going to hurt you," Jaune corrected to the faunus girl's satisfaction. "Unless you give me reason to?"

And there was the glare again.

"And what reason would that be?"

"I dunno, are you going to drag me shopping and ask me whether you look nice in a bunch of different outfits, then get mad when I can't give an opinion with enough details while at the same time trying not to mention when a dress looks bad without saying it does without dancing around the whole thing? And then tell me that guys have to compliment girls when they ask them how they look in a certain outfit, and talk about a bunch of details that we don't actually notice, and never say that it actually makes their butt look big, especially if it honestly does."

The girl blinked and frowned. "What?"

"Because I've already had to deal with that, and really don't want that from someone who isn't my sister," Jaune continued to explain honestly.

"What does that have to do with anything?" The girl was very confused now.

"I dunno, you're the one who asked."

"I didn't ask for that!" she said hotly, ears twitching as she hit the ground with her fists.

"Well, it was the first thing that came to mind!" Jaune retorted, Stick completely forgotten.

A moment passed between the two as they seemed to take each other's measure. The girl had given him a once over, but halfway through her head shot up to glare at Jaune, eyes staying above his torc.

Jaune just took another look at the faunus girl. Her short hair was black and hung just to her shoulders, perhaps having a lustrous sheen in the past but was now mussed from physical exertion and grime had plastered to her skin from sweat. The ears atop her head were clearly feline, dark as the rest of her hair, so some manner of cat faunus. Her clothes were ruffled and slightly torn in places, colored in greys and some shade of lavender that seemed finer than most would be able to afford, though were still functional despite the wear and tear. Oh, and there seemed to be strange marks on her arms.

Jaune frowned. Those looked like rope-burns. Jaune remembered seeing those marks whenever Violet messed up while training her dagger-tail techniques with practice ropes when they were younger. Only these didn't seem like practice-injuries.

"Who are you?" Jaune asked.

The girl frowned. "I could ask you that."

Jaune returned the frown. "Well, I'm…"

 _Crouching tigers and hidden dragons, son._

"... Charles Goldenrod," he blurted the first fake name that came mind, before absentmindedly adding, "McLovin."

The girl deadpanned. "Charles. Charles _Goldenrod McLovin_ … really?"

"Um, yeah?" Jaune grinned awkwardly, already regretting this decision. "That's my name."

"Are you sure?" Her eyebrow was raised, disbelieving.

"Hey, why wouldn't I know my own name?" Jaune pouted.

"Because it sounds like you just made that up." She nodded as if that settled everything.

Jaune huffed indignantly. "Oh yeah, and you could do better?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure I know more about making up names then you."

"Really? How?"

"I'm literate. So I've read a lot of names."

Jaune was aghast. "That proves nothing!"

The girl pouted, turning away with her nose turned up imperiously. For a moment, Jaune was shocked by the comparison to Chloe before the girl peered at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Fine. Then I'll come up with a better name for you," she stated. Jaune spread his arms, inviting her challenge.

She frowned and hummed, standing as she leaned over to get a better look at him. Feeling oddly on display, Jaune suddenly remembered he wasn't exactly dressed in front of this girl, and tried to shy away.

Luckily, it seemed like she didn't take long before nodding to herself and leveling a finger at Jaune.

"I've decided. Your name is... Adrien!" she declared, smiling.

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "Adrien?"

The girl nodded, arms crossed as if it was all decided. "Yes, like from the story."

"What story?" Jaune inquired.

The girl paused, panicked then covered her reactions, waving the question away.

"Not important," she deflected. Jaune paused, but decided to let it go. It _was_ a good name, though he wanted to know what story it came from.

"So should I give you a name then?" he asked. The girl stared at him.

"What?"

"Well it's only fair," explained Jaune. "You gave me a fake name, so now I've got to give you a fake name, too."

Her demeanor was conflicted, caught between the horror of being subjected to a name as horrid as Jaune's earlier attempt with 'Charles Goldenrod McLovin', and the fair-play of having picked his fake name for him. "I… guess so." she conceded after much deliberation. The faunus girl struggled to keep her face from twisting in revulsion at the idea.

"Great. Then I shall call you… Fish-Thief!" he grinned.

Fish-Thief was outraged. " _F-Fish-Thief?!_ "

Jaune nodded. "Very appropriate. Very fitting," he said solemnly.

"No it's not! Fish-Thief is a _ridiculous_ name, and I won't have it! My name is Bl…" she started to rant before catching herself, eyeing Jaune warily. "...Blaire."

Jaune cocked his head. "Blaire," he said, rolling the word around his tongue. " _Bl_ aire, Bl _aire,_ _Blaire_." He nodded after a moment, satisfied. "Yup, that's good too."

"Glad you think so," Blaire huffed, arms crossed irritably. She raised an eyebrow when Jaune extended a hand.

"Well, hi there Blaire. I'm Adrien," Jaune grinned. "You alone out here?"

She eyed the hand warily before slowly answering, "... Why should I tell you?"

"Because I have no idea where I am, and directions would be nice. And you don't look like you have a map." Honesty, Jaune decided, was probably a very good policy given he had to find a way to Wind Path, and couldn't do that without knowing where he was.

Blaire frowned. "I don't have a map. And I don't know where we are exactly. Just that we're in the wilderness of the Hundred Rivers…" She hung her head before whispering, "...and I'm lost too."

Jaune felt sympathetic, clapping a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There, there, at least you know what region of Anima we're in. That's a good thing! Now come on!"

He began to lead her towards his camp site. Blaire followed by furrowed her brow as she puzzled something out. The cat ears atop her head flicked when she realized it. "Wait, you didn't know you were in in Hundred Rivers?"

Jaune shrugged. "It's a long story." Well, at least he knew why there were so many rivers so close together - Hundred Rivers was a very appropriate name for the area, even if most of it was wilderness and frontier villages and towns.

Blaire nodded, eying Jaune suspiciously. She was mildly surprised when he looked at her and plainly asked, "So, why'd you steal my fish?"

Blinking in surprise, Blaire gave him a long hard stare. Jaune didn't seem to be understanding what she meant by that, as he just looked at her dumbly. She raised an eyebrow, gesturing that it was obvious.

Jaune was clueless.

She sighed. "I was _hungry_ …" Blaire and the fish looked really _good_ …" Her voice trailed off. Blaire's tongue darted to lick the edges of her lips, as if to savor the memory of the taste.

"Oh…" Jaune blinked. "Yeah, that makes sense."

They walked around a bush to come upon Jaune's campsite where two of the fish still cooked and his clothes dried. The sword was resting on the ground, and the appropriated satchel propped up for the clothes to dry on.

"Well, next time, you could try asking."

"What?"

"For the fish. I mean, I had five of them - I could have shared. Or caught more…"

Blaire froze and stared at Jaune as he checked on the fish and the state of his clothes. He frowned slightly as the clothes were still a little damp, but the fish were more than done. Pulling them out of the ground, Jaune offered Blaire one of the cooked fish-on-sticks.

"Here, you still hungry?"

The fish was gone before Jaune could even blink, as Blaire plopped down on a rock he'd pulled up by the camp-site. Her teeth tore into the fish with avaricious abandon.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jaune muttered as he ate his own slowly.

Blaire ignored him as they ate, savoring the fish before noticing that Jaune wasn't done. She sat there awkwardly, a little unsure of what to say. Jaune simply finished his fish, then sighed, rubbing his hands together. Getting up, he nodded and headed to the river.

"Ah, where are you going?" Blaire called after him.

"To catch more fish. I only had one, and I need protein!"

Blaire pouted, but Jaune paid her little mind as he fished. When he returned with some more for them to eat, he was surprised to see her still there, awkwardly looking into the fire.

"Huh, you're still here," Jaune wondered aloud. Blaire shot him a dirty look.

"Where else would I be?"

"I dunno, didn't think you'd actually stick around after that," Jaune shrugged. "Not that I mind, it's nice to have company."

Blaire looked into the fire. Jaune waited for her to answer, but found the girl was prone to bouts of silence. She seemed to be pondering something but as he dressed the fish and skewered them to cook, he noticed her gaze was laser-focused on the skewered meat.

' _Ah, so that's it_ ,' Jaune grinned to himself.

They sat in silence as the fish cooked. Jaune tried to piece together Blaire's story from her appearance, while she attempted the same. While tending to the fish, Jaune checked on the state of his clothes. When they were sufficiently dry, he excused himself to change.

He had to clean his feet of the dirt he'd gotten on them while walking around barefoot, but once Jaune was fully clothed, from head to toe, Blaire seemed to give him an appraising look.

"You're not from Anima, are you?" she wagered after some time of silence. Jaune looked up at her.

"What gave it away? The accent?"

"You don't tie your sashes like people here do."

Jaune glanced down at the copious sashes that made up the robe-shirt belt. He shrugged.

"I haven't worn these kinds of clothes in a few years. I'm just working off how my Dad tied them last."

Blaire hummed in thought as she glanced at the fish again.

Jaune smirked, "You're drooling."

Immediately Blaire sat straight, ears standing tall as her hand darted to wipe along her chin and found nothing. She shot Jaune a reproachful glare as he chuckled.

"That's not funny."

Jaune held up his hands in apology, but that didn't stop his smile. Blaire pouted. Silence descended to be punctuated with the sharp crackle of the fire as the two glanced about each other awkwardly. Eventually, Jaune decided to break it again.

"So, where are you from?"

Blaire took a moment to respond. "Mom said I shouldn't tell strangers where I live."

"But we're not strangers," Jaune frowned.

Blake gave him a puzzled look. "We literally don't know each other's names. For all I know, you could be a serial killer."

"Well, I'm not a serial killer," Jaune stated.

"That's exactly what a serial killer _would_ say."

"Hey!"

It took Jaune a moment to realize she was joking. Mostly because her lips quirked ever so slightly upwards that if he hadn't attempted to quench the blush that surged through his face at the teasing, Jaune might not have noticed it.

"Well, _my_ Mom says 'Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet'. And we've met, and given each other names. So we can't be strangers, we gave each other names!"

"You mean, I gave you a name, and came up with one myself."

"Same difference!"

Blaire gave him a strange look. "You're weird, for a human boy."

"I know," shrugged Jaune.

Another moment of awkward silence passed before Jaune motioned for her to take the fish - they were pretty much done at that point. Now chewing much slowly (Jaune supposed she wasn't as hungry anymore after the first four, but still devoured the additional fish with relish), Blaire asked him, "So what are you doing out here anyways?"

Jaune paused to chew and swallow before answering, "I'm traveling to Wind Path to find my Uncle Olivier. I need to deliver a message."

"A message?"

"Yeah, a secret message."

"Really?" Blaire perked up, though still a little skeptical.

"Uh-huh. I have a bunch of papers, and one of them is the message. It's very important that he gets the message. But I have to get to Wind Path quick, or he might leave town."

Blaire frowned. "Wind Path's a long way north of here. That could take days, maybe weeks if you went by foot."

Jaune frowned. "Yeah, I thought I was closer, but now that you mention it… I need to find a village, and get a map. Maybe a horse." His frown deepened. That meant money he didn't have.

"Do you… mind if I come with you?"

Jaune perked at her voice. It was quiet and if not for his exceptionally trained hearing, he might not have caught it. So meek and shy, it didn't seem like the headstrong girl he'd threatened with Stick then offered to catch fish for.

"Why?" he blurted without thinking.

Her ears drooped as she looked away. "That's my business. And you've been nice so far, so…"

Jaune frowned. Was it because of those marks on her arms? She didn't seem to look too much older or younger than him. About his age, he had guessed, give or take a year. So why was she… what horrible thing happened to her?

Jaune huffed, shaking the worry away when she looked at him hopefully. He had to put on a smile. "Sure, you can! But if you think you can just eat all my fish, Fish-Thief, then you have another thing coming!"

"Hey!"

"What[? It's true!" Jaune retorted to her indignant cry.

"Huh, just another example of the human majority insulting the faunus." huffed Blaire. Jaune rolled his eyes

"But I'm not insulting faunus, I'm teasing you." he explained. "And you just happen to be a faunus."

"No one just happens to be faunus!"

"Well of course they do. People are born all the time, and it so happens that some of them are born faunus, and others happen to be born human. This brings us to you: you're just a girl who so happens to be a faunus." Jaune nodded solemnly. His arms were crossed and eyes closed, and Jaune was sure he'd done it like great-uncle Tiberius had. It seemed like the pose for the very wise when they were dispensing wisdom like this.

The faunus' mouth just hung agape in disbelief. "You really _are_ weird."

"Nope, I'm Adrien!" Jaune replied happily. Blaire suppressed a snort of laughter.

"So weird."

-A Feline Fish Thief-

They'd set off together after Blaire cleaned up at the river. Unlike most house cats, it didn't seem like Blaire minded the water. Jaune was thus led to believe that her Faunus heritage wasn't modeled after a domestic feline, but then again, he had no idea if all faunus acted like the animals whose traits they had. Violet was a tiger faunus, and she acted rather like a predator at times, but Jaune wasn't sure if that was a stereotype, or just Violet being Violet, like the twins were the twins.

It was confusing, and Jaune decided to ignore it. Blaire seemed a tad touchy about faunus-things while they talked. He could respect that.

After much deliberation, the two set off to the North-East. The river they had eaten by in the morning twisted downstream that way, and by their collective estimate, they were south of the inner sea, and since Wind Path was east of Mistral and by the coast, northeast was a good direction to go. If they encountered a village along the way, they'd find a way to get transportation there quicker.

Apparently Blaire had a bad experience with riding a horse some time ago. Jaune had to reassure her that he'd been riding since he was big enough to fit on a colt's saddle and had ridden with his parents since he was even younger than that. If not a horse, he conceded, then perhaps they could catch a ride with a traveling merchant or trader, and find a way to get to a port where they could quickly make their way to Wind Path.

Of course, this would all take a great deal of time, but Jaune was in a hurry, and with Blaire wanting nothing more than to get out of Hundred Rivers, they made good pace.

Well, as good a pace as Blaire could set, since Jaune's endurance made things like weariness and sore legs a laughing matter. When she had trouble walking, he had to trick her into letting him carry her on his back. Tricking Blaire to let Jaune carry her appeared to entail getting her to think it was her idea (or at least, that she was getting the better deal), and letting her tease him for as long as he carried her.

After some time, this would make Blaire irritable, and Jaune would laugh as she marched ahead of him, declaring she would definitely outpace him. After an hour or two, she'd get tired and demand they rest for a moment, to conserve strength, when Jaune would tease her again, rile her up and get her to ride on his back again.

So they went until late in the evening as they followed the river northeast. Blaire walked alongside Jaune, who was busy listening to the birds and the chatterings of squirrels.

Noting that Jaune seemed distracted, Blaire asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Hmn?" Jaune turned to her.

"What are you looking at?" she repeated.

"I'm not. I'm listening to the birds talking," Jaune explained.

Blair smirked and rolled her eyes. "Sure you are."

"They say there are Grimm a league south of us, moving west. We should be fine for the night once we find a spot to camp."

Blaire was skeptical about this information, but seemed to almost salivate at the thought of more fish. They eventually found a shady spot where they wouldn't be disturbed along the river, and set up. Jaune fashioned a second fishing-spear for the faunus girl as the two waded into the river.

Feet squirming in the muck under the water, Blaire held in her disgust as she peered at the rushing creatures under the water's surface, darting around their ankles and past their toes before slipping away. She didn't know how to hunt fish with the pronged spears, but she was willing to learn.

Naturally, this entailed Jaune needing to catch her before she fell in whenever she slipped in her frustration as the fish twisted past her and around her spear.

"It's all about flow, Blaire," the young warrior explained. "The fish swim along the current. They can move through it, but ultimately they mostly move with the flow. But when they do so, they're _fast_. So when you thrust the spear into the water, they'll see it, hear it, feel it coming, and they'll slip away."

"Then how?" she pouted.

"Don't strike where they are. Aiming for the fish means you'll go hungry. You have to feel out the flow, see how the fish moves," Jaune lectured, peering into the water as he demonstrated. "Anticipate where it is going to go, then strike where it will be. Strike then and there, and the fish will had swum right into your piercing spear."

His spear dropped into the water and came out with a splash, a silvery fish caught on the spear's prongs.

"Like so."

Blaire set herself in a determined pose, peering hungrily into the water, this time waiting and watching. It took her several tries, but after so many failures, she managed to catch one.

Jaune grinned with her as she laughed and taunted the fish by rubbing her belly. It certainly wasn't very lady-like, as he had assumed from her delicate hands and careful disposition, but it was heartening to see nonetheless.

He didn't hold in his laugh when Blaire pouted at the sight of his seven to her two. Eagerly, he forked four over to her, which seemed to satisfy her some.

The two set up some stones to lay against and Blaire helped gather wood at Jaune's instruction while he dug a small fire-pit. Setting up the fuel and kindling, Jaune brought out another of the ammunition cartridges and broke it open, sprinkling a tiny pinch of the Burn Dust onto the wood like he had done before. As he set it alight, he noticed Blaire's eyes seemed to have hardened at the sight of the fire dust as she leaned over to watch him work. She then quickly glanced at the ammunition, the satchel, the chipped sword Jaune had, and paled, piecing things together..

Jaune frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Where'd you get those bullets. That Dust…?" Blaire questioned, tensing as if to bolt.

"I found them," he answered honestly, concerned. Why as Blaire acting this way? Could it be she recognized the gear? Was… Lords in Heaven forbid, had he been wrong about there not being a survivor?

"I found a campsite yesterday, attacked by Grimm. Couldn't find anyone around that was, well… alive. So I took what I could still use, prayed for their souls, then moved on. Why?"

Blaire was silent, staring into Jaune's eyes, looking for something. Jaune shuffled anxiously over the fire, unnerved by the glare. Eventually, she let out a breath, and looked away.

"Sorry," she whispered. Jaune heard it anyway.

"For what?"

"I… never mind."

Blaire turned to sit as they set up the fish. Night was quickly descending upon them and she huddled by the fire for warmth.

"Were you… there?"

Her eyes shot daggers at Jaune, fury brimming in their depths. The boy jolted at the sense of anger as she snarled, feline ears flat against her head, "I _don't_ want to talk about it."

Hands held up in surrender, Jaune murmured, "Okay, okay. Sorry, I didn't know."

They looked at anywhere but each other, as they waited for the fish to cook. The mood was awkward now as Blaire couldn't stand to look in Jaune's direction, and he kept stealing glances at her to wonder what had actually happened.

Her ears twitched as Jaune clapped his hands together as he finished eating and the boy stood.

"I'm going to the riverside to pray and practice... " he excused himself before grabbing Stick and the chipped sword, and heading to the water. Blaire looked after him curiously as she quietly finished eating her fish.

Stick twirling in hand, Jaune sat at the river bank, watching fish dart through the water as the currents rush and the river lapped at the earth. It carved its way inexorably through, and Jaune marveled at the power of the water. Jaune sat there by the river banks, knowing that the sound of the water would help him calm and center himself to meditate. His legs were crossed, and Jaune began to focus on his breath, circulating internal energy through his body and enter the meditative state.

He felt the solidity of the earth's might beneath him, water's coursing movements and fluid nature, the thrum of the fire in his belly as it burned like an ember ready to set a bonfire ablaze, the wind whistling through his air as the cool touch of air caressed his skin, the sensation of the world fading away as he visualized the tree of life carrying him away from the material, up and through the spiritual realms to the gates of light and shadow, spinning duality professing wisdom and insight into the mysteries as he ascended into the meditative realm of the infinite.

There, Jaune remembered the words of the gods, the prayers exulting their greatness and all-encompassing presence as he recited the songs in the tongue of forgotten peoples, a language whose words and letters helped build the foundation of Heaven. He let them slip from his lips like a whisper, his mind thrumming with the energy found in their holy patterns and sounds, the might of their creation and effect to speak the world into existence, write its laws and order it as thus.

-A Feline Fish Thief-

Blaire watched silently, eyes gleaming with interest. She hid behind a tree for her observations, curious as to what the strange human boy could possibly be praying about. Sitting with one's legs crossed and palms open on their lap wasn't the position of prayer for an Oumist. She couldn't help but wonder what it was then that the boy prayed to. Surely it wasn't some demon, for the boy hadn't been unkind to her, and she hoped he wasn't deluded by such foul trickery like in some of the stories she had read or had been recounted to her.

Silver Lady in the skies above, she knew plenty about being persecuted for being different, so perhaps this was something she and her new 'traveling companion' shared. He was surprisingly pleasant for a human boy, and while their kind was still responsible for the oppression of her people in many ways, his kind gesture of forgiving her, err, _appreciation_ of the fish he caught and his sharing of the rest, the walk they shared as they traveled, the chats they had along the way where she was astonished to find he wasn't an illiterate buffoon, and the lesson he had given her in catching fish… She couldn't say for certain, but he was an acquaintance that she felt like she could trust. Like there was just something about him that told her that winning his loyalty would offer her a friend for a lifetime.

Instead, all she could feel now was the uncomfortable feeling of _presence_ , an unexplainable sense of _something_ that just radiated off of Adrien's body. It was as if his body was far more real than the world around him, and at the same time, like he was detached from it. The shattered moon overhead that seemingly illuminated the boy made everything seem even stranger.

The words that she heard him whisper carried an immeasurable weight to them, yet she could not understand their meaning. All she knew was that merely hearing them brought to mind images of rushing brooks and animals frolicking through meadows. Birds soared overhead, and the beat of drums resounded through the air. The world danced and sang to the music of unseen instruments, men and women, human and faunus, young and old, hand in hand as they exulted in the sensations of creation. It was a scene of peace and love for all her people, as the sun and moon danced in the skies above.

She couldn't understand why those strange words she didn't know brought these sensations to mind. It was like a memory of something she had never witnessed, never experienced, yet knew in her heart to be true.

It was dizzying, but altogether entirely forgettable as they washed away like a dream, fading as Adrien's murmured prayers did. She struggled to keep the image in mind, to remember it so she might understand it, yet found them slipping from her grasp.

The prayer's sound drifting with incomparable weight and scattered by the winds, Adrien's hand reached for the chipped sword laid beside him.

He mimed an unsheathing, tossing the imaginary cover away, as Adrien leaped to his feet. The steel seemed to quiver in anticipation in Adrien's hand as he brought the sword up to his eyes. They opened, and she could swear for a moment that they had glowed like a jaguar's eyes in the moonlit night: mirrors that pierced the veil to look upon one's soul.

Then the steel _blurred_.

Adrien was moving to and fro, the sword flashing in and out, practicing slashes and thrusts, cuts and jabs and even a good deal of unarmed strikes and clinches as the boy seemed to dance. It was enchanting, that the young human could seem like he was dancing to the beat of a song she could not hear no matter how much she strained her ears. Yet she could divine its tune and rhythm solely from the motions of his dance. The sword in his hand seemed less like a weapon and more like a flashy, steel extension of his body, the two melding in harmony as they danced.

He treated the sword tenderly, like a cherished friend, yet used it to create destruction. His swings cut the air and split the wind. The sways of his legs and hips almost felt like the rush of the river, their motions as if the shifting of the ocean, formless and unknowable, yet resolute like a mountain standing fast against a storm. Flashing steel melded with thunderous fists, palms and joints that carried immense force as they thrust and spun, kicks thrown swift as shadows.

The chipped sword was at times rigid and sliced with tremendous force as if it were ten times as heavy, yet also demonstrated unforeseen flexibility as the boy's hand waved the sword, and the faint presence of light lined the edge that coiled and darted like a snake, flashing left and right, almost as if it were a rope that was whipped about. The sword darted forward, and she couldn't possibly understand how it was that Adrien made it seem like the steel's reach was so vast that it felt almost like the sweeping of a spear. But then it swept inwards, flashing in arcs so quick that it seemed almost like he were wielding several swords at once.

She couldn't contain her amazement as Adrien danced, movements flowing from one to the other without rest, producing countless variations and combinations as he practiced. She gasped as he twisted and turned, sword flashing high as Adrien seemed dance on the air, untethered from the earth.

At that sharp intake of breath, Adrien had whirled, leaping through the air as the sword darted forth and -

Adrien's eyes opened and they widened with shock.

\- it stopped inches from her chest.

"Oh Lord of Light, I'm so sorry!" Adrien gasped as Blaire tried to get over the fact that her life had flashed before her eyes.

"I-I, you, that…" she sputtered, trying to find her words, but only failing in the face of the question, ' _Who is this kid?!'_

"I humbly apologize," he seemed to be bowing now, the blade in his off hand as he did. Then he would straighten just enough to look at her with a terrified expression before bowing again and again. "I completely forgot you were around and when I heard you I just reacted and, well, I uh, sort of _reacted_ and thought you might have been a Grimm or something and, uh, I'm so sorry, did I say I was sorry? Because I really do deeply apologize and -"

Adrien's mouth kept on rambling various apologies as the faunus girl tried to arrange her thoughts.

Eventually, she settled on a question. "What _was_ that?" she gasped.

The boy shrugged. Shrugged! Like it wasn't a big deal. "Prayer and sword-practice… I got a little too into it."

Blaire stared at him, the martial-fighting-genius boy at least feeling the presence to be uncomfortable and ashamed for scaring her half-to-death with a _sword lunging towards her, oh by the Pale Moon!_

She ended up punching him in the shoulder to stop herself from freaking out. "Don't… _scare_ me like that," the faunus girl hissed through grit teeth bared like fangs, ears flat against her head. He didn't even flinch.

"I said I was sorry. Promise, won't happen again."

"You swear?"

"Pinky swear I won't intentionally scare you again." Adrien held up his pinky and offered it to her. She stared at it.

"Pinky swear?"

"Yeah, back home it's like a really special promise. You just link your pinky-fingers and, uh, shake I suppose. Pinky-swear."

She looked between the finger and the boy's eager face and sighed. "I notice you didn't swear not to scare me, period."

"I don't know if I'll do it by accident…"

The faunus girl pouted, ears flicking outwards as she considered it. Adrien fidgeted in place, much to her amusement, as he was kept waiting. Her father had taught her that trick, though he did it by being really big and tough. She was a girl, and still small, so she had to do it a little differently.

"Alright," she finally conceded, linking her pinky-finger with Adrien's. "Guess that's the best I can hope for." The boy smiled as they shook the intertwined fingers.

"Great! Now let's get out the bed-roll and sleep. I only have the one so we'll have to share…" Adrien was enthusiastic, though his voice trailed off as he started to consider just what he was saying.

Blaire flushed furiously and shoved the boy, regardless of the fact there was a sword in his off-hand. "You - you fiend! Was this your plan all along?"

"What? No!" sputtered Adrien, trying to stop her from stomping away. "I mean it's cold at night and you could get cold if you don't, and, uh, well, we're both like about the same age by my guess, so it should fit the both of us if we don't move around a lot, and it'll keep us warm and stuff…"

Apparently, the boy had a habit of just putting his foot in his mouth when he was embarrassed or caught off guard. She smirked as she realized it made his frightening display of martial prowess earlier a little less terrifying.

"Then I suppose I'll be taking the bed roll, and you can just sleep by the fire," she said as imperiously as possible, putting on the airs of royalty.

Adrien pouted. "That's not fair."

"Well, I'm a lady, and you can't just ask a lady to sleep in the same bedroll as a boy."

This caused Adrien to pause, looking like he'd been struck by lightning. "Oh, Lords, I completely forgot about that… Mom'll _kill_ me if she hears about that…"

Blaire nodded primly as they came back to the fire and Jaune pulled out the bedroll for her before plopping down by the fire to stoke the kindling.

She glared at the bed-roll and her stomach roiled as she recognized it and remembered its last owners' unfortunate fate.

"I washed it. Really, really thoroughly," Adrien seemed to have read her mind. "Cleaned it with a bar of soap I got from that camp, back when I found it. I've got a lot of experience doing laundry, so trust me, it's clean."

The faunus girl frowned at the bedroll. That didn't make her feel better. Not one bit.

A breeze brushed past the camp, rustling through the woods. She shivered as it tickled her relatively bare arms, and her keen eyes and ears reminded her of the dangers inherent to the woods at night. Having Adrien around was a step up from those three thugs who she'd gotten away from when the Grimm attacked.

Sure, he was just about her age (by her guess), and thus not as smart as her because she'd been praised for being very smart for her age. Not to mention she was sure she was brighter than any _boy_ , human or faunus. Plus, that sword-technique was… if it was actually effective and the boy could use it in a fight, then at least she wouldn't have to worry too much about monsters or predators. He'd managed to help her avoid a wild boar back while they were trekking along the river, hadn't he?

"I suppose," she sighed. Blaire crouched and crawled into the bedroll, unable to suppress the flinch and expression of revulsion that came to her face. Adrien seemed to notice, but other than the concerned frown he had, he didn't press for details. That was good. She… she didn't think she was ready to talk about that mess anytime soon.

Shuffling inside until she was comfortable, Blaire yawned and closed her eyes, curling up to sleep. Might as well make the best of a - well, it wasn't really bad per say, but it was odd - odd situation.

"Good night Adrien," she mumbled as she yawned.

"Good night Fish-Thief."

She could hear the smirk. It sounded insufferable. Her arm darted out of the bedroll and snagged a small stone which she chucked in his direction.

There was a slight scuffle as he either was hit by the rock or dodged out of the way, but she was trying to ignore everything and go to bed.

It was a good thing she was a cat faunus, so she heard his correction clearly.

"Good night Blaire."

-A Feline Fish Thief-

 _ **A/N:**_ _This chapter was_ soooo _much easier to write than the last one. I actually had a semi-decent plan in mind before I started, so that was nice. Plus, having another character with which to bounce off of helps out alot, and actually lets me write dialogue, which is a sight more fun than generic montaging and listing out events/actions. And as I'm drawing heavily on the Wuxia genre, actual character interaction is important, though some cliches and tropes are thus a given. But I'd like to think I've got quite a few twists and turns to put on those to make them more 'interesting'._

 _Also, no you don't get brownie-points for guessing Blaire's real name. It's too easy. You do get an internet cookie if you can spot other references, as well as the ability to name a minor character because I share Jaune's inability to come up with good names. No one has actually done that option yet, though; I'm rather surprised. Most of them are quite obvious._


	12. Chapter 12: Tarzan and the River

Chapter 12: Tarzan and the River

Jaune huddled by the fire to keep watch. The campsite was well located - a fallen tree and the wild growths shielded the site on multiple sides, while the opening led towards the river, allowing him a clear view of anything that might approach from that direction.

He thought about the day he had just had, and the new acquaintance he had made. Hopefully she would be Jaune's friend in the days to come, but for now, she was just a female acquaintance. That was all Jaune would allow himself to assume - he didn't make friends that easily, but he would consider her one until she felt the same. Jaune smiled. She was definitely at the campsite he had found. Good then, that she was still unharmed. Small mercies.

But the chipped sword - or rather, Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward, as he had learned it was nicknamed - had shown him glimpses of its history as he attempted to resonate with the sword. The sword had bent to his will rather quickly, and Jaune was surprised to learn the remarkably plain sword was quite old, and its past users weren't honorable men or women. Truly the nickname "Steel Coward" was apt for an unusual blade whose last user had died a coward and a thief.

It led Jaune to wonder about Blaire, for the sword had belonged to a criminal - that was all it knew - and Blaire had been at the same campsite as such individuals. Not to mention those marks on her arms… had she been a captive?

This led Jaune to some disquiet - he had prayed for their souls to find rest back when he first found that camp. With the revelation that they might have been criminals of a horrendous sort, Jaune wished he could have withdrawn such prayers, and instead prayed that they be judged, such that they might have all their sins laid bear before the heavens and their souls measured for their worth.

Jaune placed some more kindling and tinder on the campfire to keep it going as he settled himself. Since he wasn't going to be lying in the warmth of the bedroll, he might as well make the most of the fact that he would be sitting upright for most of the night. It would simply be more efficient to cultivate his inner energy - trivial things like the cold winds and the darkness were of little consequence to Jaune when he did so.

Surprisingly, cultivation was a lot like personal prayer in many respects. It involved certain breathing patterns ingrained so deeply that Jaune could (and sometimes did) use them in his sleep. The phrases and methods of manipulating energy were like the rote memorization of prayers, carved in the granite walls of the mind so they were never forgotten once fully understood. The motions of the body - particularly the hands to form the mudras - were like those of prayers, though adapted for different circumstances. But rather than moving to tap into the divine, Jaune brought it all in and let it cycle through his form.

His father - his Sifu - had always impressed on Jaune the importance of not being greedy when it came to taking in the energy of the world. Unlike most (or: pretty much all) of his family, Jaune had no affinities. He couldn't draw in focused power to cultivate. So he had to draw everything in. This was supposed to be rather inefficient as only some of it could actually be used, but Jaune made do. Others would only need to cultivate a little near sources of their appropriate elemental affinity for great returns - Jaune was stuck with a lack of talent.

Sure, he had been angry at first to learn that his path to the strength would be longer and more arduous than others who walked similar paths. Strike that, Jaune had been furious, and rightly so. But after some days and the meditation his father had forced him to do, Jaune was led to the conclusion that perhaps this was okay. The gods would certainly smile on him one day, should Jaune work hard and make do with his few meager talents. His father had constantly reminded Jaune of that. His talent wasn't good, and his potential was mediocre. The path would not be easy, unless he fell to depravity and a baneful existence with forbidden or corrupt methods - the sort that typically invited in the demons.

Jaune had no desire to fall to such sinful depravity, nor become an Anathema. If he allowed a demon to slay him and take his skin, how could he face his ancestors?

Thus Jaune utilized the 'painfully slow' Heaven-Earth methods. It worked surprisingly well for him, but it always felt like his methods were lacking.

The young hero felt the world around him fade away. His body and mind ascended through the tree of life, and paused before truly entering the realm of thought. Idly Jaune turned to glance upon the cultivation of his power, and noted with some measure of pride that his foundation was continuing to build, stronger and stronger. It had no shape, formless in nature, but malleable enough that he could later draw upon it into any shape he desired. His efforts were starting to bear fruit, though not to the level that it could not be further developed.

Jaune noted that the energy flowing through was being filtered through his meditations and breathe, drawn deep into the soul and sent through the meridians to vitalize his body. His soul's foundation and the energy he had gathered were continuing to build to levels that would amaze anyone other than Jaune, and his body was strengthened and promised to grow as Jaune aged into maturity. The chakras were thrumming with energy, and the lotus gates each hummed their own unique note that resonated with the cosmic.

Good. All was as it should be.

Jaune paused, his physical body frowning as he noticed something intriguing about the energy being filtered in to bolster his foundation.

Or not. What was that?

Jaune extended his senses, peering out to follow the flow back to it's source, and understand what was happening. Some of the energy was attempting to rebel, as if it did not wish to be drawn in and converted to feed Jaune. This wasn't too concerning, but it certainly was odd because that usually only happened with beings of living will.

And this energy that attempted to rebel came from the river nearby.

Jaune reached out to prod the energy flowing from the river, expecting it to submit and play nice like every other source of energy did when he drew from them to cultivate. But instead Jaune metaphysically leaned back when the river _jolted_ at his touch.

Jaune paused and looked at the energy again. It was rather powerful - as expected of a river so mighty - but he was curious as to what would happen if he did again. So he extended his own energy and prodded it again. Another jolt. After several minutes of staring at it to see if it would happen once more, Jaune prodded it a third time. This caused an immediate reaction as the energy began to draw back and away from Jaune's cultivation, much to the boy's surprise. The flowing energy began to stagnate and shift, swirling counter to what Jaune expected as he was unsure of how to react as the water's energy appeared to come alive before him.

It formed a figure that could vaguely be called humanoid. It seemed to be masculine to a certain point, but it was hard to ascribe details meant for humans when the being appeared to have fish scales in place of skin in places, and other times was clothed in flowing fabric that shifted like a stream. Smooth, wet stones adorned what was likely its hips as a belt that was held together with fish-bones, together holding a cudgel that appeared to be made of flowing water and river-silt. Its hair was plastered against it's head, soaking wet, and it didn't have a nose. A fishbone comb seemed to be trying and failing to keep its hair in an orderly fashion. Water dripped from its mouth as it yawned and smacked it's lipless lips. From the scaled ridge of its brows came long tendrils that hung to frame its face and hair, with four eyes that were solid orbs that swirled with the colors of the water. Its arms had fins along their lengths, and webs between bulbous fingers like a frog's. Underneath it's waist and belt of river-stones coiled an enormous serpentine tail adorned with pale scales and several ridged fins every now and then, capped with a tail-fin that trailed tendrils.

Jaune gaped at the sight, and was a little off guard when the entity seemed to blink before stretching a little as if waking from a deep slumber. Then it winced with a gurgle of water escaping its lips.

" _Yaogin's teats, this hangover is awful,"_ it groaned, rubbing its head as water bubbled and fell from its mouth as it spoke. It didn't seem to have noticed Jaune yet, just grumbling to itself about something prodding it awake.

"Um, sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Jaune apologized, unsure of what it was he was apologizing to in the first place. Was this… was this an elemental? He didn't think they actually talked like people. The stories spoke of elementals being called by sorcerers to do their bidding, but the practice had been… well, not very well used of late. Mostly because it was difficult to call one up and they were only as smart as the person who called them up.

And they certainly never had hangovers.

The 'elemental' seemed to glance at Jaune, and blinked. This was a motion that was a little unnerving for Jaune as it essentially entailed the 'elemental's eye-orbs flowing out of its sockets like normal water just as new ones reformed from apparent nothingness. This was likely due to the elemental not having eye-lids.

" _Aw, yup, hallucinating, I am. Which of those blokes spiked my drink?"_ the 'elemental' moaned ponderously, shaking its head such that the water sprayed. It held its head in its hands as it tried massaging its temples to relieve a headache. " _Unless it's actually real… are you real?"_

"Well, _I_ think I'm real."

" _Of course you do."_ The 'elemental' seemed to sigh, water gushing from its mouth as it looked Jaune over.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, I was only trying to cultivate nearby, and noticed something odd when I was cultivating from the river energy. I might have woken you by accident when I was investigating why…" Jaune explained shyly.

The 'elemental' seemed to have its water-orb-eyes swirl like whirlpools before their settled back to their normal flowing. Jaune assumed this was its way of rolling its eyes.

" _Figures, you're one of_ those…" it grumbled irritably, tail flopping. " _What a pain. Well, next time you cultivate what doesn't want to be cultivated, leave 'em be, you here? Might have a hangover that makes 'em want to eat your head."_

"You want to eat my head?" Jaune was horrified, and readying to flee.

" _Well, no…_ " it admitted, before groaning again. " _I want to eat my own head, this hangover is terrible... "_

"Oh, well, I'll let you get back to your sleep then," Jaune started to draw back before remembering something. "But first, do you happen to know the nearest town from this river?"

It lolled it's head back. " _Follow the current to the north-east, and there'll be a waterfall. Go down and there should be a monastery somewhere there,"_ the 'elemental' answered and flopped its tail again as it seemed to roll with a shrug.

"Thank you," Jaune half-bowed, right fist in an open left palm. It wasn't a very detailed answer, but it gave Jaune some measure of hope to be out of this wilderness and on their way. "I'll be on my way, and try not to disturb you further."

The 'elemental' just waved its hand dismissively, reminding Jaune that it didn't actually have real bones before dissolving back into the river's water energy. Jaune pulled back and returned to his cultivation, this time making sure not to disturb the river with his cultivation.

Well, this was a story no one would ever believe. He'd accidentally woken up and talked to a water elemental with a hangover!

-Tarzan and the River-

When Blaire blearily opened her eyes, she awoke to the scent of fish cooking over the fire. It didn't take her long to fully wake up and scramble out of the bedroll.

"How long?"

"Hmn?" Adrien looked up at her, as if finally noticing she was awake. Blaire glanced at the boy, noticing he hadn't just been tending to them, but also preparing some greens and browns in a makeshift bowl filled with water.

"Until the fish are ready."

"Ah," he nodded. "Not too long. I also dug up some tubers and roots, make something so we're not eating fish all the time. It's not healthy."

Blaire glared at the boy. There was nothing wrong with having fish often. In fact, she'd prefer that. It wasn't realistic, but a girl could have dreams, couldn't she?

Though it wouldn't hurt to have seasoning too… maybe some noodles…

Oh darn, the boy was right, having fish constantly would drive her insane.

But was that such a bad thing?

Blaire sat by the boy on the ground by the fire. He was seated with crossed legs, hers were drawn up to her chest. She looked him over, a little curious as to how he had fared over the night.

Strangely enough, he seemed rather well. She was sure he had fallen asleep after her, simply because she could hear the crackle of the campfire and his breathing as it lulled her to sleep. And he was clearly up early enough to have searched for food and caught fish, but the sun didn't seem to have been up for very long. And yet the boy didn't even seem that tired, not even after all the exertion of the day before.

It was impossible not to marvel at the scenario, and Blaire watched the boy as he worked. No circles 'round his eyes, no sluggishness or fatigue in his motions. His countenance was calm, and unperturbed by camping in the woods. Not to mention that the bowl seemed to have been carved from wood - an item she was sure the boy hadn't had the day before.

Did the boy even sleep?

She told herself he did - everyone needed to sleep. She must have just overslept and the boy was a light sleeper or the like.

A stray thought made her wonder whether Adrien had done anything strange while she slept. Immediately she had to fight the blush at the path that line of thought would lead, shaking her head lightly to dislodge the idea from her head.

"Are you okay?"

The flush returned in full force as she noticed Adrien was looking at her, apparently concerned. She shook her head. "No, just… it's nothing."

Adrien nodded, slightly frowning but letting it slide.

"Here." The bowl was proffered to her, and she took it in both hands, staring into the cooked plants floating in the water of the makeshift soup.

"I don't have salt for the taste, but that should give you some strength for today. We've got to keep moving," Adrien went back to putting kindling on the fire, making sure it wasn't bright enough to draw attention, nor causing too much smoke. It was a dusky scent, leading Blaire to crinkle her nose.

"Thanks," she sipped at the soup before making a face. It didn't taste very good, but she drank it anyways. Adrien had gone to the trouble of making her food - it would be remiss of her to turn down such a generous offer. Especially since it was a boy around her own age. The boy seemed to give her a sad smile whenever he saw her grimace, knowing fully well it tasted poorly.

"How old are you anyways?" Blaire inquired. She didn't think she had asked that before.

"Nine," Adrien seemed to grin proudly, "and-a-half."

Blaire hummed as she ate. She was nine as well. Fortuitous, but she couldn't help but pout when he tacked on the "and-a-half". Boys liked being older than others. She couldn't really explain why - they just did.

"How about you?"

Blaire glared balefully at Adrien. The boy's eyes widened and he turned away.

"Right, forgot. Should have thought better than that," he said quickly.

She relented her irritation in agreement, going back to her food. Once done, she passed the bowl over to the boy who just set it aside.

"Now?"

"Yeah, might as well."

They ate fish. Like always, it was delicious.

-Tarzan and the River-

"Hey, Adrien," Blaire broke the companionable silence as they walked alongside the ever-more turbulent waterfall. The boy had been foraging as they walked, unhindered by the distraction. Blaire used the staff, Stick (she couldn't really understand Adrien's naming sense), as a walking-stick to help her as they hiked, having argued with Adrien to carry at least some of their supplies. The sword, apparently named Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward (again, with the weird names), stayed with Adrien who appeared to actually know how to use the weapon. "It sounds like there's a waterfall ahead."

Adrien turned to her and nodded. "I know. The river's surface is rater unstable and is flowing quickly. We should see the falls soon."

Blaire looked at the water thoughtfully, before following Adrien. They had stuck to following the water's edge, but given a lack of beach and the steepness of the earth just before the water, the pair had kept a few meters of gap. This meant Adrien was able to poke around through the flora and find things for them to eat as they walked, while she used Stick to navigate the rough terrain.

She huffed at how Adrien seemed to make this all look so easy. Navigating this rocky landscape was no easy task, yet he appeared as if he were simply taking a stroll! How enviable.

"Well, if there's a waterfall, what can we do then? I don't think we can follow this river then, even if it is heading in the right direction."

Adrien paused, looking thoughtful. "I suppose we'll only know when we get there," he shrugged after a moment, taking a sip from the bamboo tube of water he had with him.

Blaire sighed as they continued walking.

Much as Adrien had guessed, the waterfall came within sight within the hour. The river went right up to the edge of a cliff before cascading over the edge, spilling thousands of liters a second as it emptied into open air. She and Adrien clambered over the outcroppings to get a better look at the falls, noting how the edge seemed to curve ever so slightly as the water rushed.

The waterfall itself appeared to be falling from a small trench jutting lightly over the cliff face that had formed from erosion over the course of countless years. The falls themselves appeared to be roughly eighty meters in height and crashed thunderously into a large pool below them, from which a few boulders stuck out. The cliff itself was overgrown with vines and creepers, as well as other plants that thrived on the edges of such walls. The cliff face rock around the fall was bedecked in green mosses, and trees appeared to grow from the sides of the rockwall flanking the waterfall. A lone boulder appeared to jut from the side of the falls at the very top, from which a massive tree grew, as if to top the entire falls with its majesty. The tree appeared to be a cherry in full bloom: a strange sight in the autumn season.

Blaire peered along the cliff's edge, noticing it swept wide and that any way of getting down would require perhaps a day more of hiking, just to sweep around the cliff's edge till where it began to trail off into more wilderness.

Pouting at this, she glanced at Adrien, but he seemed to be captivated by something in the woods past the waterfall's pool. Frowning, she followed his gaze into the dense trees. When Blaire noticed exactly what had caught his attention, she gasped.

Most of the trees by the pool were normal, but shortly past that was a sea of pink. Thousands upon thousands of cherry trees in full bloom, their beautiful pink blossoms on display. It was as if a painter had decided to craft a forest, and only had the dark grey for the branches, and buckets of pink paint and decided that the entire forest would be clad in the bright color. Not even that, it appeared as they _moved_ , the pink tones shifting ever so slightly to an unseen wind from this height.

And sprouting from the sea of pink blossoms appeared to be the roofs of some manner of building. In the style of the old inhabitants of Anima, with upturned roofs whose shingles were a bright and cheery red, that sprouted as pagodas from the tops of the cherry trees, with walls of white and long pillars and ornamentation in dark cherry wood.

A building!

Civilization!

People!

""We need to get down there,"' the two said in unison. They glanced at each other, before nodding.

Blaire frowned as she looked at the waterfall, the pool, and the sea of pink beyond. "But how? We can't climb down, and hiking along the cliff would take forever. And we wouldn't survive that jump."

She gave Adrien a look when he barked a laugh at her last remark. What was so funny about that? Surely he didn't think they could survive such a fall. It was maybe eighty meters, and unlike the movies, jumping into water doesn't mean one will survive a fall. She knew better than that - the water could be as hard as rock if you fell into it wrong, and the higher one fell from, the harder you would it it.

"Well… do you know how to rock climb?" Adrien asked.

Blaire frowned and shook her head. Despite living so close to a jungle and some small mountains, her family hadn't allowed her out in the wilds too much - hiking was all she had ever done before, and even that had been on pre-made trails for recreation. That too while under the careful supervision of adults like her parents, relatives, or friends of her parents. Free-climbing a cliff, especially a descent, without proper tools? That was impossible for her.

Adrien hummed in response. He seemed to be peering over the edge, before glancing back at the falls and the line of the cliff as well. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, gears clicking into place and turning to come up with an idea.

She wasn't sure she liked the look in Adrien's eyes when he said, "I think I have an idea."

"What idea?" she asked, ears flattened suspiciously.

"You're not going to like it."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," she hedged.

"I'm going to tie you to me, and then I'll get us down."

Blaire face faulted. "That's a terrible idea!"

"You don't know how to rock-climb, and hiking down there will take too long," explained Adrien. "But I _do_ know how to rock-climb and how to get down there without breaking our legs."

"With no tools? No climbing gear?" Blaire tried to get Adrien to see reason.

"I've done it before," deadpanned Adrien, completely nonplussed about the situation.

Blaire gaped. "You've _done it before_. You've descended from a cliff by a waterfall while tied to another person, without any climbing gear or dedicated equipment, while we're carrying everything we've been carrying."

Adrien frowned. "Well, not a _person…_ "

Blaire momentarily brightened, cat ears perked.

"... but you look a lot lighter than a 4-cylinder engine block, so the only other difference is that you can fidget and talk."

Her palm met her face with alacrity.

After a moment of praying to the heavens, she squared herself resolutely and state, "No, that is a stupid idea. I am not going to just tie myself to you, and nothing you say can change my mind."

-Tarzan and the River-

"How did I let you talk me into this?" Blaire moaned as Jaune continued with his knots. She had climbed onto his back, arms around his chest, her legs wrapped about his hips. The faunus girl was securely lashed to his body with four strands of rope and Jaune made sure the knots wouldn't slip, yet would easily release once they were down the cliff. She was very uncomfortable with the idea of being tied up and bound to Jaune, but had eventually relented to its necessity - she didn't want to slip off him while they descended. Blaire wore the traveling satchel and Stick had been tied up with the bedroll to her, while Jaune had Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward at his hip, and the dagger tied to his opposite thigh, just in case.

"I dunno," he had to avoid shrugging too much in case it disturbed Blaire too much. "I just talked, you talked, at this point, we're going down and should be at those buildings before nightfall."

At current, he was busying himself with the creepers and vines he had drawn from reaching out over the cliff-face in order to fashion more secure ropes. He fastened them to an old maple that somewhat jutted over the cliff's edge, preparing for their descent. Jaune also had a few stones tucked away that he had quickly chiseled into edges sharp enough to cut the ropes, which he assured Blaire were just a precaution.

In truth, he had only made enough rope for roughly 40 meters - half the height of the cliff face. He didn't let this onto Blaire because she would never have let him use his ridiculous circular logic to convince her that this was a good idea. Especially because he hadn't told her his actual plan.

Which was to swing off the cliff and then jump.

It was remarkably simple, and Blaire would have never gone for it.

"Ugh, just get this over with," she mumbled into his shoulder, burying her face into his back and neck. Her breath kind of tickled as it brushed past the skin of his neck and caressed his ear..

"Aye aye, miss," he mock-saluted which earned him a half-hearted swat - Blaire's hands were rather restrained so she didn't move around too much. And so she didn't start flailing about when she cottoned to his actual plan.

Jaune wrapped the vines about his wrist for a more secure grip as he tested its strength. Seemed good enough. He smiled as he walked with ease, despite the weight, to the edge of the cliff and moved along it, gauging the distance by sight alone.

"Oh heavens," Blaire seemed to be mumbling from behind him. Jaune suspected she had clamped her eyes tight, just so she didn't have to see the dizzying heights. His heart went out to her - once upon a time, he too had thought such heights were fearsome.

Funny, what his father's training had conditioned him for.

"One for the money, two for the show," Jaune sang as he rocked on his heels, readying to leap off. Blaire tensed behind him. He grinned.

"Three to make ready," he sang as he raced back into the forest once more, much to Blaire's confusion, before spinning on his heel and sprinting for the edge.

"And away we go!"

The ground might have cracked as Jaune leaped from the cliff, shooting into the air to the cacophony of the boy's booming laughter and the girl's shrieks.

Caught weightless on the wind from his leaps, Jaune waited for the vine-rope to tense before twisting in midair, as the screaming pair swung in an arc towards the cliff face. Jaune relished in the rush of air through his air as he spun along an axis and allowed the motion to direct energy and Aura into his legs. With a shout, Jaune thrusted his foot in a mighty breaking-kick, explosive power impacting empty air to change the direction of their swing to move along the cliff face rather than at it.

With a laughing holler, Jaune glanced behind him to see Blaire's eyes wide and shrieking… and was that the faint hint of a smile on those wailing lips? Well, what do you know? Jaune roared with laughter as they shot into the air before falling along the arc again.

As they fell, Jaune waited for the right moment before jerking down on the vine-rope. The sharpened stones had just been a distraction for making sure the cliff-edge where the rope would be rubbing against was sharper than normal - a ruse to mislead Blaire. So when Jaune pulled and twisted, the vine-rope snapped under the stress of his mighty jerk, sending them into free fall.

The pair screamed - partly in terror, partly in exhilaration - as they fell, the water below speeding towards them and promising a painful splash. But once they were roughly 30 meters up, Jaune spun in midair while they fell, whipping the vine rope out into the green trees that crowded the pool. With a subtle twist of his wrists (something he'd observed from Violet's training in the past), he caught the vine rope on the top of a particularly tall tree a few meters past the water line.

Feeling confident it was secured, he pulled hard on the vine-rope, sending them flying towards the tree-top. Once again it was difficult to tell whether their shrieks came from terror or thrill, but shriek they did while sailing towards the green trunk of the tree.

Jaune had already put his feet up and in the way, tensing as his feet impacted the bark and the arboreal landing-pad groaned and bent under the force of their flight. His legs bent and tensed under them as Jaune felt the tree bend and curve before it's supple trunk decided enough was enough and tried to straighten itself out again.

Exhaling sharply, Jaune used the spring-back of the tree to launch off the tree tops, chest to the sky above. His arms spread wide like he was a bird flying upside down, much to Blaire's amusement/dismay.

As they fell over the pool, Jaune continued the motion into a backflip, focusing his energy into keeping his balance and aim while preparing his legs for the landing. He aimed for a particularly prominent boulder near the center of the large pool at the waterfall's base that protruded from the water's surface. Completing the flip, Jaune landed on both feet in a low crouch, Aura partly cushioning the landing as he cycled the energy through, air rushing from underneath him as the two landed with but the whisper of a fallen feather alighting upon the ground. His arms were wide and swept out like the spread wings of a bird.

"And he sticks the landing," Jaune joked before straightening.

He looked back at Blaire, whose form seemed to be shaking on his back. She seemed to be mumbling incomprehensibly in some archaic language words that might have been prayers.

Preparing himself for the worst, Jaune informed her, "I'm going to undo the ropes know, so you can get off me."

She seemed to nod at that, which had the boy quickly untying the knots that kept his faunus traveling companion fastened safely to his back. As the weight dropped and he heard her feet land a little unsteadily on the rock behind him, Jaune quickly turned and helped to steady her.

Ears standing tar and back ramrod straight, Blaire blinked at Jaune, before it morphed into a glare.

"A-are you okay?" Jaune stammered under that baleful look.

Blaire punched him in the shoulder. Jaune shifted under the blow, but was honestly un-phased. She punched him again. And again. He attempted to humor her.

"Jerk!" she declared with a shove that failed to push him into the water.

"Sorry."

"Liar!" Another shove.

"Sorry."

"Idiot!" Yet another.

"Again, sorry."

"We could have been killed!" Blaire pounded on Jaune's chest with futile fists.

"But we're okay, right?" Jaune looked her over, finding no apparent injuries, though there was a strange watery look in Blaire's eyes as she shook in place. Her face seemed flush, and was quickly pinkening.

Then all of a sudden she crashed into his chest and tried to crush him in a hug.

"Um…" Jaune attempted to formulate words but found none.

"Just… shut up." Blaire growled into his chest between what seemed like shallow breaths to hold back tears.

"Oooookay," Jaune mumbled as he awkwardly patted Blaire's back and tried to avoid the urge to pet the back of her head. His resolve failed as her ears quivered by his nose.

She tensed at first at the touch before the soothing motion began to calm her down as Jaune attempted to catch his own breath as well.

Once she had recovered her cool, Blaire pulled away and looked around them at the pool.

"Next time… tell me your real plan," she demanded. "So I can tell you you're an idiot. A really talented and amazing _idiot_."

Jaune just gave her a mischievous smile. That made Blaire pout and cross her arms.

"Alright, alright" he relented before teasing, "but thanks for helping me out."

"What?" Blaire was confused by that, though couldn't help the slight smile that came from the quirk of her lips.

"Cats always land on their feet. Guess with you there, so did we."

Blaire flushed furiously before trying to shove Jaune again, but this time both of them were laughing.

"Ugh, at least we didn't get wet," she wiped at her eyes when the laughter died down.

Jaune shrugged, gesturing to the water that surrounded them. "Well, we're still stuck on this rock in the middle of the pool."

Blaire sighed. "Well, at least it couldn't be worse."

Just as the words escaped her lips, there was a growl from past the water's edge, deep in the trees. Jaune was instantly aware of the silence in the woods - no birds, no beasts, just the deafening crash of the waterfall behind them, the gurgling of the water pooling and flowing into the streams that lead from the pool and the rustling of the bushes and branches of trees as the two stared in horror at the shadow, no, _shadows_ emerging from the trees.

They were tall and clambered like awkward bipeds with long arms for quadruped movement. Black as shadows and clad in bone white spikes that jutted from their backs and along the curves of their limbs. Their paws and feet were tipped with razor sharp claws, and their fangs glistened as they growled in unison. Their heads were clad in stark white masks that resembled the skulls of canines, specifically long-snouted wolves. Their inset eyes had pupils of a sickly yellow that resembled the center of burning orbs of blood red that glowed menacingly from their horrible visages.

"Beowolves," Jaune muttered under his breath as the word were a curse.

Blaire paled, as she whispered.

"Grimm."

-Tarzan and the River-

 _ **A/N:**_ _I had fun with this chapter. Took longer than it ought to have what with RL concerns constantly interrupting and distracting the muses. But I had fun with it, and hope you all did too. Next chapter will involve quite a bit more action. A sword shall be drawn, blood will be spilt, and magic will be in the air as Jaune and Blaire face the Beowolf pack and make their way to the monastery hidden in the cherry blossoms._


	13. Chapter 13: Wolves And Steel

Chapter 13: Wolves And Steel

The Creatures of Grimm.

Demons and monsters clad in black flesh and white bone that brought death and destruction to all that humanity and faunus-kind sought to build.

Blaire knew them by many names, but The Grimm was the only one that really mattered. Because they were monsters and bloodthirsty killers that cared not for who she was nor who her parents were nor even what hopes and dreams she had for the future that had yet to be achieved.

She almost collapsed in sheer terror. Her legs shook and her breath caught in the back of her throat as she could see the flickering glow of their hateful eyes. The way they followed her every twitch and shiver, tongues lolling and slathering over their fangs as if they could taste her fear in the air.

Who knew, maybe they really could smell her absolute terror, and its scent was what drew more of them to the water's edge. Blaire paled and whimpered, ears flat against her head.

There was a rasp of steel beside her and she was cast back to several nights before, and the screams and shouts of men as they tried to fight back. But were surrounded and outnumbered. Just like she was about to be.

Again.

And there was no horse to be tied up and slung over. No horse that would bolt the moment it's reins snapped, carrying her to safety.

No, just water that reminded her of what an awful swimmer she was, and the roaring crash of a waterfall behind her, with the current flowing away from the cliff face and straight towards the pack of murderous monsters.

Blaire had considered herself lucky to have survived the last time. Fortunate to have had the Madonna smile upon her from her seat in the night skies. She had prayed those days as a captive. Prayed and prayed and prayed, yet despaired when those prayers had fell upon seemingly deaf ears.

Then a few days ago, those Grimm had attacked. Monsters springing from the shadows, swarming with fangs and claws and unearthly growls that curdled the blood. She had been tied up and helpless. Left on a horse as punishment for trying to fight back against her captors. Bound but not gagged, because those villains found it funny to hear her snarl whenever they came near. Because she was an animal to them. Less than human.

Then they were killed.

Monsters garbed in the bodies of men, slain by demons clad in truly monstrous flesh.

Blaire had believed that was the end. Her whimpers and prayers had surely been unanswered, she had thought. But instead, the rope snapped. The horse sprang free and bolted.

It ran and ran and ran.

The Grimm had given chase, but it continued to run.

If there was one thing those villains had done right, it was pick a good horse, and this one had saved her life. She thanked the goddess for her mercy as the Grimm gave up the chase for the horse had superior stamina and speed.

But the argent divinity is a fickle goddess, Blaire learned back then, for the horse continued to run. And poor Blaire had been bouncing on it's back, unable to stop it. She'd tried to scramble around and scream for it to stop, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. The horse still ran, and Blaire tried to free herself despite the constant motion. It didn't really work.

Then something yowled from the wilderness and leaped towards the horse, who suddenly drew up and reared to kick the attacker. The creature had leaped away from those dangerous hooves but the horse was already galloping away, off the path and into the wilderness, and Blaire had screeched futilely as the branching arms of the trees whipped at the horse and her body.

Then they were falling, and she thought that surely Fate was cruel for her to die so soon after being rescued from those demons.

But instead she had struggled and they crashed into the side of a ravine. The horse broke its legs, whinnied and screamed in pain and terror as Blaire used what little strength there was in her body to cling to a large bush growing out of the rock and hang on for dear life. The ropes snapped, and the horse fell free, crashing into the moving water. Its screams would haunt her, but she was alive, and that was what mattered.

Over the course of the night, Blaire had chewed through her restraints and climbed up the ravine. And then she ran as she found the sounds of the night unbearable. She hid in a tree and prayed that she would be rescued.

That someone would find her.

Anyone, even a bad guy was preferable to being alone and helpless in these wilds.

And then… she smelled cooked fish.

She heard the crackle of a fire and had approached cautiously to see what it was.

That was how she met Adrien…

Adrien!

Blaire turned to see him looking at her. His eyes were blue, bright and clear and unfathomably deep. She'd watched him these last two days, and wondered about him. How a boy who seemed just about her age could do such incredible things. Accomplish such feats of skill.

But she was terrified, and searched for that same fear in his eyes. Blaire had guessed he was trained to fight. It seemed like very boyish thing, that thrill for battle. Her mother had always thought so, teaching Blaire that fighting was for silly boys that hadn't learned that it only got them in trouble. That cowardice wasn't always a bad thing, and that there was nothing more important than keeping yourself alive to come home safe and sound.

Blaire missed her mother. She regretted at least that much.

But she knew that the Grimm's presence and numbers meant only that she would die. And Adrian would die with her.

The strange, sweet boy who had fed her, kept her warm, and led her through the wilderness, pointing out the beautiful sights and naming the colorful birds that flew through the skies, describing the antics of wilderness creatures as they walked. The boy who prayed so fervently that Blaire could feel it and whose sword-practice had dazzled and awed her. She had been enthralled by his swordsmanship, yet he was only a boy - maybe he could keep her safe from a lone Grimm or the creatures of the wild, but the fool would die if he challenged so many of the monsters.

He was saying something, asking her something, but Blaire's ears refused to listen to anything but the terror in her heart and the sounds of the monsters drawing closer, growing in number.

She looked to see the fear in his eyes, and found none.

Only conviction. Conviction and concern.

Concern for her.

Her breath hitched as she struggled for words, gaping as she struggled to answer. Her heart was racing, leaping into her chest and she felt helpless again. She wanted to run. She had to run. To get away because she could hear the growls picking up, the howls and barks as the waterfall's crashing sound morphed in her thoughts to only bolster the cacophony of the demon's noise.

They were going to die, and this idiot was looking at her like that…

Was this punishment for what she had done? For clinging to life instead of dying with those horrible men that had kept her captive? For trying to live the way she wished?

Oh, if only she could have begged for the world to forgive her, to show she was foolish and wrong, if only she could be let to live!

Because the only thing that waited for her now was dea-

"Focus!"

Her eyes snapped to Adrien. He'd been trying to talk to her. She blinked and was about to mutter an apology, because this was likely all her fault somehow, but found that somehow his hand had found her shoulder. He was so close. When did that happen?

Adrien's hand was warm and reassuring, and Blaire felt so much better as she stared at his face. The resolution and calm that told her that everything was going to be all right.

Was it? Was it really going to be all right?

She wished she could believe that, but…

" _Breathe_ ," he whispered softly. And she did, following his deep breaths with her own. And she did feel calmer now. Because Adrien was here. The boy who prayed so fervently and whose blade danced under the moonlit. Who knew the wilderness even if he'd never walked it before, and whose lessons taught her to spear fish on her own.

"I'm going to give you something. It'll protect you. Okay?"

She didn't know why she was nodding, but there was nothing else to do. This was Adrien… she could trust him. She had to trust him. Blaire couldn't cheat death again, but maybe…

Maybe Adrien could cheat death for her.

"Okay," she whispered as he let go of her shoulder. Already she missed that reassuring touch as his hand went to his neck. There was a slight glow as he reached back and pulled something away.

She stared as he held that ring of metal that used to adorn his neck. It was bronze and seemed almost like a collar, but the hoop was incomplete and open on one side. She'd wondered what it was, but hadn't the courage to ask, for it wasn't like any collar she had ever seen before. There were etchings in the bronze and they glowed when Adrien's fingers did. The bronze collar seemed to widen, and then he had slipped it around her neck before she could shy away.

The glow faded, but she could feel the cool touch of the metal on her skin. She glanced at it, wondering what manner of protection it was, and looked at the boy.

"It's a torc. A talisman. Might help…" Adrien said with a small smile before looking between her and the growing numbers of Grimm. She didn't know why, but they seemed to pause at the water's edge, as if watching and waiting. "Now, just trust me, and we'll get through this, okay? We're going to be alright, Blaire. Everything will be fine, we just need to get to that monastery…"

Blaire gave Adrien an incredulous look. "Adrien… there must be dozens of monsters between us and those building. And if there are Grimm this close to them, then that monastery is likely…"

She couldn't bring herself to finish that thought. Adrien's mouth hardened into a line, telling her that he understood too. That there was a chance that no one would be there.

"Never give up hope," was his answer. "For things always seem to be darkest just before the dawn."

Blaire held back a whimper as she looked to the Grimm. "But right now, the sun's about to set, and night will fall soon after."

Adrien looked to the sky and muttered something in a language she didn't recognize. It sounded like the language of his prayer.

"We'll make it. _I'm sure of it._ "

Something inside her stirred, and it carried through her. A song in her heart that she remembered from the night before. That feeling of joy and rightness. As if somehow, she knew he was speaking the truth. That yes, they would make it. Everything would be alright.

Adrien held out his hand.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, and Blaire looked into his eyes once more.

She was scared. Terrified, and not sure whether she would survive against the Grimm again. She didn't know how to fight. Just how to run away. Did she have the courage to at least try? To leap into the jaws of danger again, in the hopes that they'd make it out alright?

She peered into those endless depths and felt those worries wash away, caught in the blue river of those orbs and their absolute surety and faith.

"I do," she murmured and her hand fell into his. Adrien smiled and Blaire knew that she was in good hands.

Maybe her prayers had been answered back then, and the goddess had sent her this boy to save her. Blaire hadn't been much for religion, not like her mother, but perhaps this was just the way that gods worked.

"Then, do as I say, okay?" Adrien instructed, and she nodded. She'd listen. She had to put her trust in him and, no matter how scary it was, Blaire had to believe that he was right. That they'd get through this.

"Good," he turned slightly, and glared at the Grimm. They snarled in challenge, and there was a slight uptick to the corner of his lips. "Then no matter what happens, promise me that once we're on the shore, you'll run as fast as you can. You've got Stick just in case, but you run, alright? Just run for the pink sakura trees in bloom, and run straight and run and run until you're at the monastery and can't run anymore."

"Okay…"

"Good. Now, try not to scream when we jump."

"Oka-wait, what?" Blaire yelped as his hand tightened on hers and he flourished that stolen short sword. Then there was a tug on her arm as Adrien leaped out over the water, a rush of air from where he'd leaped as her feet left the water-slick rock they'd landed on.

She let out a shout as they seemed to fly through the air, straight at the horde of monsters on the shore. Even with the way they'd descended down the cliff face, she'd never before seen a boy as young as Adrien leap like a huntsman. This was like something out of a television screen or straight from the pages of a book.

And true to her word, she didn't scream until blood splattered on the ground and they landed in a crash. A dying Beowolf whimpered beneath them, legs and claws spasming as Adrien had crashed right into it, blade impaled right through its skull. The Beowolf had died instantaneously, and its body hadn't quite realized that yet.

She didn't have the time to gape as Adrien let go of her hand and Blaire rolled away before hastily pushed her head off the ground, coming to her knees. The Grimm had already let out a group howl and were closing in fast.

Blaire looked to Adrien as he was still crouched, blade sunk into the dying, disintegrating monster. His head whipped up, meeting her shocked eyes.

"Don't just sit there! Run!"

Blaire nodded as she stumbled to her feet, turned, coming face to face with another Beowolf.

" _AAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!"_ she screamed.

-Wolves And Steel-

Jaune grit his teeth as Blaire turned, holding back a wince as she screamed and backpedaled away from the Beowolf emerging out of the woods.

Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward wrenched free of the dead Grimm it was sheathed in and whirled, drawn back as Jaune lanced forward. One, two steps on soft grass before his third sent him into the air, flipping over Blaire. The terrified girl seemed almost frozen in shock as Jaune descended. The steel short sword slashed at the creature's snout, forcing it to draw back.

Hitting the ground, Jaune continued to let his center of gravity drop before whirling into a low spin. Indigo's breaking tips had actually helped a lot when it came to ground maneuvering, Jaune found. One hand on the ground his legs whirled beneath him as his legs blasted from below, one at the Beowolf's hind leg ankle and the other at it's armpit in a modified rochedo assault. The two impacts jolted it back as Jaune continued the spin and put his feet under him. Then with a spring, the sword was up and lancing forth as Jaune drove the blade under where the rib cage would be on a standard wolf. The steel sunk halfway in before the boy twisted and wrenched the sword out. The Beowolf's eyes were wide as it gurgled on its own blood before stepping back, giving Jaune enough time to disengage.

He grabbed onto Blaire's forearm, shaking it. "Come on, Blaire, we have to go!"

Shaken out of her stupor, Blaire seemed to stare at him before nodding vigorously. Jaune gave her a smile before turning back to the woods where more of the monsters were starting to prowl out of the woodworks.

The chipped sword Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward sang in Jaune's hands as he focused on his inner energies, channeling Aura throughout his body and weapon as he had practiced countless times. His body had trouble with the energy sometimes - it didn't flow the way it was supposed to. As if the traditional methods simply weren't enough. Jaune didn't care - he just needed to be strong. Fast. Capable.

And he knew he could be one day. He just had to make that day today

"Sorry Dad, gonna have to break the rules…"

The Beowolves howled, brimming madness inherent in their eyes and slobbering jowls as they allowed their wounded fellow to fall back, filling the ranks. Blaire seemed to hold back a whimper behind him.

Jaune frowned. They were going to try and box Blaire and him in with the water's edge. Not that Jaune cared about the water, but it made for tricky footing and was a disadvantage he couldn't afford.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Raaaah!" Jaune roared in defiance, Aura flowing through his form, blazing just under his skin like molten fire, moving through his body and his weapon, harmonizing till they sang in concert. A duet that would proclaim deeds of martial valor upon the battlefield.

Jaune rushed forward as the Grimm darted at them, Blaire dogging his footsteps with her face set in a glare of determination.

The Grimm came at them from all sides, but Jaune was already making circles about Blaire as they moved. Blaire was slow, not used to the exertion that came from having to move in combat, and prone to jumping at every small thing that tried to get close. That and she was weighed down by the fact that they hadn't had the time to relieve her of everything she was carrying - which was quite a heavy load.

Upside: it was relatively easy for Jaune to keep up with where she was moving, and thus keep pace while fighting.

Downside: she was slow and thus Jaune had to work harder to keep both of them alive.

He batted aside a swinging arm before riposting with a stabbing thrust, wrenching Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward free in a spurt of Grimm ichor, whirling to catch the claws of another that tried to catch Blaire's back, quickly stepping up the first's legs to use it as a jumping pad with a kick before twisting the sword to slash at the second's eyes.

He barely missed, but his sword blurred as Aura refined the edge, slashing out its ankle before twisting and darting to pierce the haunch of another Beowolf ahead of Blaire. He roared as the Beowolf howled at the shallow wound and attempted to backhand him, Jaune twisting free and ducking under it's wild swing. Jaune's fist surged with energy, smashing into the Beowolf's jaw before the sword whirled to slash its neck. The monster reared back from the blow, before Jaune leaped into a spinning jump kick, foot exploding outwards like a cannon shot to throw it back.

A shout from Blaire had him whirling to grab her arm and drag her out of the way of a Beowolf's leaping assault, Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward thrust forward as it bit through the underside of its jaw and through its brain. The light faded rapidly from its eyes, but proved to be nothing more than a distraction as another bull-rushed the pair.

Blaire yelped as they tumbled, but Jaune found his feet quickly. Darting up, he smashed his shin into the legs of another pouncing Grimm, disrupting its footing and momentum as he punched up into its abdomen so it fell over and past them.

With a single arm, he grabbed Blaire by the back of her shirt and hauled the faunus girl to her feet, before twisting into a reverse axe kick that slammed yet another Beowolf's claws into the ground by its wrist. While it tried to recover from the awkward position, Jaune capitalized on the opening by stabbing his Aura-enhanced fingers into its eyes.

The Beowolf howled as it fell back, blind, just as three more attempted to swarm them from multiple angles.

With a huff of effort, Jaune shoved Blaire out of the way, falling into a tumble to grab the arm of a dead Beowolf that had yet to fade. Twisting, Jaune adhered to the flow of battle, allowing his instincts to guide him as he thrust the appendage forward, impaling a Beowolf on it's fellow's own claws. Before it could react to the sudden reversal, Jaune used the surprised Grimm as a ledge to clamber over, flipping as he grabbed it's shoulders and spun in midair, legs kicking like a windmill. The other two Grimm stupidly tried to claw at him, but his nimble dodges to interpose with the monster he danced upon resulted in the black demonic wolves clawing their brethren instead.

Howling with rage, the Beowolves smashed the dying Grimm into the ground to sink their teeth into Jaune, but the young hero was already leaping away, curled up in a ball as he flipped through the air.

Then his feet exploded out of the spin, slamming into the back of the skull of a Beowolf attempting to corner Blaire against a tree. It fell forward, but not before Jaune twisted in midair to seize it by the back-spikes that protruded along its spine, continuing to spin. The Beowolf twisted with Jaune as the boy found his feet on the ground and planted them, solidifying his stance with a roar as he released. The throw tossed the Beowolf away from Blaire, the Grimm's body crashing through the trees.

Blaire quickly darted away, but not without sparing Jaune a glance out of the corner of her eyes.

Jaune smiled as he scanned the surroundings for foes. Still plenty, regrettably, but if the two of them could go deeper into the trees, then the Beowolves' size would work against them. Jaune and Blaire were small, while the Beowolves were each taller than a fully grown man and then some. Their imposing figures were a hindrance in these tight quarters, especially against foes this small. Blaire was easy prey since she couldn't move quickly, but Jaune was incredibly fast for his age: benefits of his father's modified Pell Training regimen for his son - the Tiger Warrior's Training. An impossible training regiment at it's standard levels, but Jaune had made it work, then went and did it far in excess of what was considered superlative.

And Jaune still didn't think that was enough.

The boy roared in defiance as he seized Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward from the fading head of a Beowolf before dancing forward in a blur of fists and steel edges. He threw back the wild claws of a the Beowolves that attempted to hobble Blaire, pacing like a fearsome lion guarding his pride, and refined the steel sword edge till it hummed and sliced through Grimm-flesh with ease. The short sword sang to his tune as he danced and spun, carving through the bodies of its wielder's enemies with glee.

Blaire whirled around a tree and came face to face with a snarling Beowolf, only for it to stop dead as the hilt of the sword sprouted from between it's eyes. Like a flash of lightning, Jaune was there, wrenching it free before spinning on the dying Grimm to deflect the wicked claws of another. Blaire slipped behind him through the opening the instant it was presented. He drew back and probed the Grimm's almost non-existent guard before darting forward carving through the hide of another Grimm. Still more emerged to challenge them.

 _Iron Bows Before The Tiger!_

Jaune dropped into a stance and darted forward, heedless of it's warding claws. The sword sang to the song of his heart, erupting in an upwards, white flash with a meisterhau stroke, carving through flesh and bone, opening its body from groin to shoulder as the Beowolf fell in two pieces.

He spun into a negativa kick to dismantle the shoddy stance of another Grimm before ducking under its legs as it fell, moving over it's body to slash over and over again into its back before leaping off its head to kick another Beowolf head that was getting too close to Blaire.

She managed to get away, but Jaune got swatted into a tree by an angry Beowolf for his troubles. There was a ripple through the trunk as Jaune impacted the tree with a grunt. He groaned as he shook away the stars, but yelped when the Beowolf attempted to swipe a claw through his gut.

Reaching his hands behind his back, he gripped the tree trunk and crunched hard. His legs swung out of the away as his body curled up just in time to avoid the deadly claws that ripped into the tree bark and tore it away in an explosion of splinters. Continuing the crunch, Jaune readjusted his hands and got his feet onto the tree trunk. Crouching vertically on the tree-trunk, Jaune grinned as Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward flashed and he leaped off the tree. The sword bit deep into the muscle between the Grimm's shoulder-blades and spine, and momentum let Jaune carve right through its back and spine before hitting the ground.

Tumbling for a few rolls, Jaune kipped back to his feet and right into the mess of things to bull-rush the leg of a Beowolf that had gotten close to Blaire, just as she whirled and smashed its snout with Stick. He didn't bother hiding his grin, laughing at the look of shock on the girl's face before taking full advantage of it's distraction to introduce the Beowolf's ribs to Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward. As the Grimm began to fade away, he wrenched the old blade out, only to find that Blaire was still running ahead.

Jaune grinned. The line of pink was getting closer. It would be much, much harder for Grimm to move in a garden of sakura trees. He didn't stop to even consider why the trees weren't arranged in rows like normal - just that they would slow the Beowolves down long enough for Blaire and him to cover plenty of ground.

Howls and snarls and the general noise of motion as the underbrush and trees were stepped around alerted Jaune to their assailants' positions. Even over the fading roar of the waterfall, Jaune's trained ears could hear their movements. A necessary skill that had been trained to hear the whistle of rocks thrown at him from random directions so he might evade them before they hit.

It appeared that the Grimm were swarming them from two sides as a pincer strike before they could flee into the sakura grove where the lower hanging branches would impede the Beowolves. The token force behind them were just there to help push Jaune and Blaire into the trap.

How tactically-minded, Jaune noted. Shani had once mentioned learning that Beowolves were surprisingly pack thinkers, even at their weakest, and their wolf-pack tactics were fearsome indeed.

But were they enough to trap Jaune? Especially since he knew what they were doing now?

Smirking, Jaune darted with Blaire. "We're almost to the cherry blossoms, Blaire! Keep up that hustle!" he encouraged the panting girl as they ran. She kept stumbling here and there, unsure of her steps, but she kept moving forward. Terrified, but still determined to get through this alive. Good, he had worried she might have given into despair.

His hand tightened on Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward.

Not on his watch.

 _Use the terrain, let it be your weapon. The world, your shield._

He whirled and danced, short sword weaving intricate arcs as he darted to and fro around Blaire, cutting down the branches of the trees behind them and to their flanks. Beowolves swarming on the vanguard yelped and growled as they were impeded by the falling timber. Under Jaune's skillful sword, the environment had come alive to defend them with falling branches and swaying leaves to obscure the Grimm's vision.

But they were undeterred in hunting their prey, barreling through the obstruction of countless falling tree branches. Still, it slowed them down as the sea of pink grew closer and closer.

Jaune grit his teeth as the maneuver only served to allow Blaire to get closer to the grove. She needed more time. Time that he couldn't buy her if he was still trying to keep up with her - the pincers would close and they'd be caught before they got to the far more favorable terrain of the sakura grove.

Slowing, Jaune watched as Blaire kept running with heavy footfalls, exhausted yet driven to make it forward. Desperate to survive.

He'd buy her time.

Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward flashed brilliantly as his Aura came alive.

The words came unbidden to his lips, echoing like the crashing groan of mountains and the endless depths of the ocean, the roaring blaze of an inferno and the howling scream of a tornado.

" _Shine Forth Thy Light!"_ Jaune cried in the words of the gods, and let his will be made manifest as his Aura surged and sang to the invisible chorus of the heavens.

" _Drive Back The Darkness!"_

The Grimm howled in unison, their relentless strides faltering and paling in terror. They faltered and their advance slowed, hesitant to challenge his glory. But they howled and howled, building up strength and resolve before they martialed forces against their hated foe. Blaire was all but forgotten to the monsters as they surged to snuff out the puissant light.

Claws and fangs descended upon the young hero who harkened to the sounds of battle's flows, hearing the humming song of glory and righteousness.

 _Soaring Phoenix!_

Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward flashed, a sublime defense guarding against all threats and brushing aside the claws and deadly demonic beasts like motes of dust caught in the thunderous beating of the divine bird's wing-dance. His defense was so effortless simple and graceful, yet deceptively powerful as the blocks snapped with tremendous force.

Jaune would have to thank the Great Condors for teaching them of the divine wing's defensive dance, for it worked well with a sword in hand, and if there was one thing that Jaune knew it was how to dance. And more sinisterly, the Beowolves' attacks were clumsy, allowing Jaune to chamber in his reply to the assault. The steel 'wings' deflecting harm with deceptive ease before the short sword flashed as the phoenix's talons were bared!

The Beowolves howled as Jaune danced amongst them, the boy surrounded on all sides as he bought Blaire the time to cover more ground.

His blade flashed to and fro, high and low, deflecting harm while returning their assaults in kind, flurrying steel proving that the young boy was still mighty enough to challenge monsters more than twice his size.

That is, until a canny Beowolf threw off his tempo, accepting his blade into it's chest with a gurgling grin of malicious glee. Jaune almost didn't see it coming when instead of trying to claw at the boy, it grasped the sword that slew it and fell away. Off-balanced by the sudden turn, Jaune almost fell with it if not for another Grimm seizing his body in a mighty paw. Howling, the Beowolf swept Jaune off his feet and into the air, before bringing his head down to open jaws.

Jaune roared and kicked, foot exploding with the light of his soul as it smashed the Beowolf's jaws closed. Howling in pain, the Grimm slammed him into the ground. Air rushed from his lungs as the weight of the Grimm bore upon him with crushing force. The young hero struggled and gasped before his hand jerkily tried to reach around it's claws and to his thighs.

The Grimm snarled at its captive prey to the howls of its fellows, breath hot and putrid in Jaune's face. Jaune grit his teeth and heaved to regain his breath. Steel flashed and the Grimm howled in pain as Jaune had drawn the dagger strapped to his thigh and cut out it's eye. Claws slackening as it pawed its blinded red orb, the Beowolf leaned back and howled.

Jaune took full advantage of his opening to dart free and catch his breath. He didn't have long to do so as the rest of the pack descended upon him. Quickly he darted for Thirty-Sixth Steel Coward, flipping the dagger into his off hand, wrenching the weathered short sword free once more.

Blades flashing in both hands, Jaune carved out a bloody path, Aura coursing through his body and steel to refine his skill and technique. His sword and dagger bit through the Beowolf pack like a tiger rending flesh, hammering with far greater force than Jaune's short form should normally possess.

The Beowolves fell back, routed as Jaune hobbled the pack and broke through their ranks. Their numbers worked against them and Jaune fully exploited the trees to run up and gain altitude to strike at their heads and necks.

A pair of them decided that this prey was simply too much for them and broke off from the pack, heading for less dangerous game: Blaire. Jaune spotted them with a shout and leaped after the Grimm. Legs pumping, Jaune barreled through undergrowth to catch up with their loping stride.

Blaire was almost into the grove of cherry blossoms, and had turned back at the sound of growls catching up to her. She faltered at the sight of Beowolves bearing down upon her and screamed, the distraction causing her to trip over her own feet and fall, just as she entered the shadow of the pink sea of cherry blossoms.

"No!" Jaune shouted and steel flashed, finally catching up to stab the lagging Beowolf through it's leg and drag it down. The sword slid free as Jaune struggled to catch up, but Blaire had already fallen upon her bum in fright and was backpedaling with flailing limbs.

The Beowolf snarled and claws descended…

"NO!"

 _*SHLIIICK!*_

… and froze as black branches coiled around each other like spears lanced out from the nearby cherry blossom trees and stabbed clear through it's neck and arms.

-Wolves And Steel-

Blaire screamed and Jaune's mouth fell agape as the ichor dripped and sizzled as it fell, the Grimm dying as the young boy rushed towards it. The Grimm behind them howled in rage as they darted forward to slay the two children.

Blaire continued to scream as she crawled away from the trees and the horde of Grimm, trying to find her feet under her. Jaune simply yelped and bolted for the cherry blossoms, using the dying Grimm as a stepping stool before vaulting next to Blaire.

"Oh gods, th-the Grimm just… It just - !" Blaire stammered as Jaune regarded the dead monster with wide eyes. He couldn't say anything, just nod in shock.

They backed away from the trees, crouching low as the Grimm howled from the rest of the forest, unwilling to enter the unseen boundaries of the cherry blossoms. The tree roots had already started snaking from the ground, slowly moving to crawl and wind around the Beowolf's legs, dragging it to the floor and binding it's fading corpse.

Was it…? Jaune paled. Were the trees _eating_ the Grimm!? It was disintegrating awfully fast…

Mildly horrified at the implications of that, Jaune shook the thought away as he realized that the trees weren't trying to eat the monsters. The few Grimm that prodded at the cherry blossom boundary were repelled by shaking branches and swirling petals, roots whipping up to throw them back.

The cherry blossom petals erupted at the approach of the Grimm, swirling in a moving storm on silent winds that carried them to form a barrier of pink flower petals. A living wall of wind and cherry blossom petals that the Grimm somehow could not breach.

"I… I don't think they can enter the cherry blossom grove. The sakura trees are… _repelling_ them somehow…" Jaune muttered.

Blaire looked at him in confusion. "But… how?"

"Magic?" Jaune shrugged. "Some sorcerer's work?"

Blaire's cat ears twitched at the howling of the Grimm, cheated of their prey. "So why didn't it _repel_ us?"

"Well, we're not Grimm. Maybe whoever lives - or lived - in the monastery we saw got this done to keep the Grimm out."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed as the two tried to calm down. Night was beginning to fall, and all they could hear was the howling of the Grimm as they continued to move away from the boundary and the beating of their hearts. They held each other close for reassurance that the other was still alive, and could feel each other's breath as they trudged on. Blaire gave Jaune several odd looks as the light of his Aura died away from lack of use. She said nothing on the matter, both of them preoccupied with finding their way to the monastery before night truly fell and they were alone in the dark.

Blaire would be fine of course, and though Jaune's night vision was surprisingly keen, neither of them too any amount of pleasure in the thought of spending another night outdoors when they could be under a roof.

In a manner of minutes, they were submerged in a sea of short green grasses, black bark, and pink petals that greeted them wherever they looked.

"Hey, Adrien?"

"What is it, Blaire?"

"You see the wall of petals ahead too, right?"

"Yup."

"Not the same one we just left behind?"

"Don't think so…"

The pair walked through the wall of petals and were surprised to find that there was another windy wall of petals shortly ahead of them again. Striding through that, the pair found themselves continuing to walk through the sea of pink cherry blossoms. The enchanting trees were beautiful in sucha way, their scents wafting through the air that put them at ease, yet seductive and deceptive in that they all looked similar. Flowers and branches covered the skies and they could only move forward. There was no path nor means of knowing whether the way they walked through the haphazard grove was even a straight one.

"I just noticed something," Blaire murmured.

"What?"

"I'm pretty sure we passed that tree ten minutes ago, Adrien."

Jaune blinked. "Really?"

"Pretty sure," she nodded.

Jaune said nothing as he looked around them. There was no way to tell where they had come. No way to tell where they were going. Jaune shifted the packs Blaire had handed off to him, drawing out the dagger once more. It took substantial effort to even make the tiniest of marks into the surprisingly resilient bark.

And even then, it was barely noticeable given the rough surface of the cherry.

Jaune stepped back and looked at the sea of cherry blossoms they were enveloped in, following Blaire's own gaze. Now way to tell which way was which.

"We're lost, Adrien."

-Wolves And Steel-

 _ **A/N:**_ _Pretty much half this chapter is one long fight scene. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel about that, but I think it made writing this one rather easy. Sadly, it's a pretty one-sided battle: Beowolves are among the lowest level of Grimm (even if they are taller than a grown man and twice as strong with deadly natural weapons), and despite being a 9-year old kid, Jaune's at the level of a Signal student. He makes some mistakes, but favorable terrain and superior speed mean Jaune can handle the pack and keep a non-combatant relatively safe so long as they kept on the move._

 _Luckily, they evaded the Beowolves long enough to get into the sakura grove that repels Grimm. Unluckily, the grove has its own dangers. Will Jaune and Blaire's troubles never end?_


End file.
